


Labyrinth of the Mind

by HachimansKitsune



Category: Labyrinth (1986), Labyrinth (1986) RPF
Genre: F/F, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HachimansKitsune/pseuds/HachimansKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 years later, Jareth takes Toby, but not of his own will. Sarah must accept her own darkness in the fight to get Toby back, while saving herself and Jareth's kingdom. Some mature themes. Rating may change. Dark Jareth & Dark Sarah. - Inspired by Pika de la Cynique's picture "The Day You Wish Would Never Come" (on deviantart.com)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: An Unwelcome Calling Card**

Thunder rumbled overhead, the dark clouds threatening to break the two-month drought that had plagued the area. Sarah flipped her hair over her shoulder as she looked up at the deep blue-black clouds that rolled across the sky, blanketing the horizon. It may have been four in the afternoon, but the brewing storm made the sky almost black.

Shifting her backpack on her shoulder, Sarah shivered, remembering the last time she witnessed a storm that promised to be as severe as this one was shaping up to be. She sighed, shaking her head to try to banish the thoughts of her time in the Labyrinth from her mind. Nearly ten years had passed since the day she foolishly wished away her baby brother. While she regretted her wish, she did not regret the adventure she had or the friends she made. She thought of her friends and her adventure on a near daily basis, but had not actually spoken to them in at least five years, as one by one they had failed to answer her calls.

She last heard from Ludo on her twentieth birthday. Hoggle and Sir Didymus had not answered her call for nearly a year before that. Sarah never heard from any of them after that night. She suspected that something had happened to them, but the only way she felt she could confirm her suspicions was to call upon the Goblin King, and that was something she was unwilling to do. She couldn't even bring herself to think of him by name, eventhough she knew it. If she learned nothing else in the Labyrinth, she learned that words have power and she was pretty sure that his name definitely had power, a power she was loathe to unleash into her life again.

Sarah was afraid that once invited back into her life, she would be unable to get rid of him again, and she really didn't need him in her life – at least she kept trying to convince herself of that fact.

It wasn't working.

The fact was he regularly featured in her dreams and nightmares. Years of studying psychology at university had taught her without a doubt, that he had influenced her life heavily, even to the point of no longer bothering with dating, since no mere mortal man would ever live up to the standards he had put in place for her. Not only had he influenced her life, but her course of study as well.

As the first of the heavy drops began to fall from the sky, Sarah ducked her head lower, trudging faster toward her apartment at the edge of campus. She had spent most of the day in the bowels of the campus library, putting the finishing touches on her PhD thesis, 'Labyrinth's of the Heart: the Fine Line Between Love, Lust and Loathing' before sending it to the campus printer. It was still something of a miracle in the Psychology Department, that she had managed to complete her undergraduate through PhD work in under ten years, but she had – coming in at seven years, almost to the day.

Having been at the library since it opened at 7am, Sarah planned to go home, take a long bath, drink herself into a stupor and sleep until at least noon, before picking up the bound copies and delivering them to her faculty. She was relieved that this particular adventure was over, as she prepared to move on to her next challenge, taking up a position as an Assistant Professor of Communication Psychology at a large state university.

She reached the outer doors of her building just as the sky opened up, heavy drops rapidly giving way to pellets of hail the size of peas, that ricocheted off the sidewalks, cars and windows, sounding for all the world like someone was throwing handfuls of small pebbles at random. Taking one last glance around the parkland where her apartment building was built, she saw a flash of white in a nearby willow. With a gasp, she launched herself through the outer door, thankful her swipe card worked tonight, as it frequently didn't.

Once securely inside, she pressed the door closed, breathing a sigh of relief as it latched shut with a loud metallic click, only then did she find the courage to press her face close to the window, searching the willow for the owl she was sure she saw. A bright blue burst of lightening illuminated the tree, now empty, leaving Sarah to wonder if there had been anything there in the first place, or if her imagination was just having a minor case of the 'heebie-jeebies' courtesy of the storm. As she made her way up the stairs to her apartment, she tried not to think about him, but he always seemed to invade her thoughts whenever a storm was brewing.

While she often dreamed of the Goblin King, Sarah was not silly enough to entertain any romantic notions about him or his motives. Thanks to her studies, she had spent many hours over the years, analyzing her memories of the Labyrinth. Oddly enough, she knew without a doubt that the events did actually take place and she was not merely suffering a mental break, although others in her classes (particularly her professors) might disagree with that assessment. And, while she did not doubt the reality of what happened, she did doubt her 15 year-old understanding of things.

It took her until her junior year of university before she finally understood the full import of what the Goblin King had really been offering her at the end. As a teen she had some romantic notion that it was a marriage proposal, upon closer examination she realized it was more of a slavery contract, and not for his slavery to her. No, she was sure that what was being offered was tantamount to indebted servitude of an indefinite length, a rather nasty trick to try to pull on an innocent 15 year old.

The truth of the offer aside, the Goblin King was still an influential male figure in her life. Every boyfriend she had ever had was willowy but muscled, tall, blonde, fair-skinned and to a one, cruel. All were aggressive verbally, but a bit of aggressive sparring was refreshing and invigorating, reminding her of the sparring she had done with the Goblin King. That said, some of her boyfriends had crossed the line into verbal abuse. Several were physically abusive in a sadistic sense, and two were physical with her in a kinky sense – which she really didn't mind as much, if she was brutally honest with herself, as she always imagined that the Goblin King would have been a bit like that had she taken him up on his offer. But the relationships never lasted more than a few months.

Sometimes, something would happen that would remind her so strongly of the Goblin King that she would break off the relationship immediately. With Darrien, she was getting into her car, which had been locked securely all day, only to find a perfectly ripe peach sitting in the driver's seat – in mid-January. Peaches were definitely out of season. She broke up with him by phone as soon as she got home.

The warnings seemed more overt if she had been physical with the man in question. With Finn, she had been taking a shower at his place after spending the night. As she was toweling off she saw a faint movement behind her in the mirror – only she was alone in the room. Leaning over the sink she wiped the mist from the mirror and saw the Goblin King's angular, aristocratic and visibly angry face quite clearly. He seemed to be calling to her, holding out his hand as if entreating her to come to him. She was sure it was him, because as she screamed, he smirked at her, his mismatched eyes flashing wickedly from behind the glass of the mirror, then he was gone. She broke it off with Finn immediately, unable to get out of his apartment fast enough.

Then there were the two physically abusive boyfriends, both of whom met with rather questionable fates. The night after Paul beat her up he was found wandering the park near where Sarah practiced lines as a teen. He had been brutally beaten and kept whimpering about little grey creatures with big eyes. Paul never bothered her again, in fact, since he had been committed to the state mental hospital, Sarah was pretty sure he was not going to be hurting anyone ever again. Based on his description of the little grey creatures, she was pretty sure that the Goblin King had a hand in his current condition. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful or horrified, and more often than not, horrified won out.

What happened to John was worse. Sarah couldn't even bring herself to think of it in any detail as to do so would give her nightmares for the next month.

_And He had the nerve to accuse me of being cruel. Bullshit!_  – she thought ruefully.

Sarah stopped dating at all after that. Unconsciously, she seemed to resign herself to being alone, somehow it seemed safer as she wondered when the Goblin King would tire of warning her off them, and take matters into his own hands, and she didn't want to see anyone else get hurt on account of her.

Reaching her floor, Sarah sighed deeply as she slipped her key into the lock. Just a few more moments and she would be safe inside her own home.

As much as she felt a physical lust for the Goblin King, or at least the memory of him, he scared her and she took measures to protect herself. Opening the door she caressed the ornate Celtic cross hanging from the peephole, pressing a kiss to her fingers before running them over the iron scrollwork. Her home was filled with an eclectic mix of Celtic and pagan talismans, amulets, markers and designs, many of them specially commissioned from a local ironworker. Cold forged iron, every last one. She had no idea if it would help, should the Goblin King get it into his head to force a visit upon her, but it was worth a shot. Since she had begun fortifying her home with cold iron, she had not had anymore visits or warnings from the Goblin King, but she was not one to let that little coincidence allow her to relax. If there was one lesson she learned well in the Labyrinth, it was that things were not always as they seemed.

Feeling for the light switch, Sarah felt a discomforting sense of déjà vu as a loud growl of thunder echoed around her. Flicking on the switch, she sighed with relief when the lights came on, only to go out as a sharp flash of white light pulsed through the windows of the balcony, followed by a tremendous CRACK.

"Damn," she muttered, dropping her backpack in heap by the door.

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to still her heart as it threatened to leap out of her chest. Ever since the power outage when the goblins took Toby, she had hated thunderstorms. When she was still living in the dorms on campus, it wasn't so bad because she had friends that she could go sit with. However, at 25 years old, it was a bit childish to need to sit with friends just because the power was out due to a storm.

Sarah found herself humming a song from her past as she moved toward the kitchen. It still bothered her, that every time the power went out from a storm, she would immediately find herself humming the song that the Goblin King had sung to her in that crystal abomination of a ballroom. Considering the amount of hail that was being thrown forcefully against the balcony windows, it did indeed seem as if the world were falling down.

Finding her lighter in the kitchen basket, Sarah lit the ironwork lantern that she kept for emergencies. Moving to the freezer she plucked out the bottle of vodka that she had been saving for the night her thesis was finished – tonight was that night and given the storm, she could use a little liquid courage to get her through.

Unscrewing the cap of the vodka bottle, Sarah took a deep drink of the icy fluid, coughing and gasping as it burned its way down her throat, heating her insides and removing the chill of fear she had felt when she thought she saw the owl outside her building. Carrying the bottle in one hand and the lantern in the other, she headed toward her bedroom. The power might be out, but she could still relax in a hot bath.

Sarah paused in the hall, seeing the steadily blinking red light on the answering machine, blinking rhythmically despite the storm thanks to the battery-operated system. Frowning, she pressed the play button. The only person who ever called on a Friday and left a message was her step-mother and even she only called if she needed a babysitter for the weekend, not that Sarah minded watching Toby these days. On the contrary, he was the only member of her family that she enjoyed spending time with – one of the positives that came from her Labyrinth experience.

The tape groaned and scratched as it began to rewind with a faint squeal, then just as quickly, the sound began.

"You silly bitch! How dare you undermine my authority with my son! He is mine to punish and you should not interfere. Letting him run away to your place is only going to cause more problems. I want you to bring him home immediately," screeched the harsh voice of her step-mother.

Sarah gasped at the venom in her step-mother's voice, while trying to figure out what on earth the woman was talking about. She hadn't spoken to Toby for two weeks, not since the last time she went across town to babysit. Fast-forwarding to the next message, Sarah hit play once more, praying that it was a message saying that there had been a misunderstanding and Toby was safe at home.

"Sarah…it's your father. Look, Karen is sorry for her last message, it's just that Toby didn't come home from school today and she is really worried. He got in trouble for fighting and she thought he might have run away to your place. If you hear from him, please give us a call. Thanks Pumpkin."

Biting her lip, Sarah checked the time of the last message, 7:24pm…. Almost 3 hours ago. Hitting play once more, she held her breath as the tape reel squeaked painfully as it started once more.

"Sarah," it was her father again, his voice cracking and pained, as Karen sobbed in the background, "It's Dad again. It is 9:45. Please call me. Toby is still missing. The police won't do anything until tomorrow, saying he probably is at a friends. But we've called everyone, no one has seen him. Again, if you hear from him, for the love of God call us immediately."

Sarah trembled violently as a sudden flash of lightening cracked close by, the entire building shaking with the impact. Her brother was missing. Her father sounded like a broken man and her step-mother was sobbing inconsolably.

"Oh Gods," she whimpered. "No…."

Without thinking, she gripped the iron lantern even tighter as she moved silently down the hallway. Placing her hand on the door to her bedroom, she thought better of it, moving instead into her study. Sarah set the lantern and the vodka on the desk as she rummaged through the bookshelves, sliding a small book with a threadbare red linen cover from amongst the stacks of books and printouts.

"Through dangers untold…" she muttered softly as her fingers ran absently over the faded gold embossed lettering on the cover.

Sarah picked up her favorite leather jacket where it had been flung into her comfy reading chair and tucked the book into the inner pocket, before putting the jacket on. Turning back to the desk, she opened the center drawer. Reaching inside Sarah slid her fingers along the underside of the desk, searching for the hidden lever. Letting out the breath she had been holding, she flipped the lever, hearing a wooden 'clunk' as the secret panel opened. Sarah knelt on the floor and crawled under the desk, taking the lantern with her. Holding the lantern up, she grasped the Celtic love-knot carving along the right side of the desk, twisting it counter-clockwise twice, then back once, shivering as a small drawer popped open next to the knot work. Carefully Sarah took out three small pouches and a small box wrapped in scarlet silk, before crawling back out from under the desk and shutting the secret drawer.

Laying the pouches on the desk, Sarah steeled herself. She opened the deep green pouch and pulled out an elaborately twisted, Celtic knot-work torc made of cold forged iron, and set with blessed amethysts and emeralds. It was far too heavy to wear for everyday, but somehow, something told Sarah that this was no ordinary day.

_**This isn't a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby.** _

Sarah gave a quiet scream and turned around, her heart thundering in her ears. Breathing deep, she tried to calm herself.

' _It is only in your head. He isn't here.'_ – she reassured herself.

_Then why are you taking precautions as if you were going into battle with the Devil himself?_ – countered her inner-voice _._

' _In many ways, preparing to battle the Devil would be easier.'_ – she thought tersely.

_Better the Devil you know….or so they say._ – replied her inner-voice with some trepidation.

Returning to the desk, she poured three small ironwork amulets from the blue pouch, checking them each carefully before putting them back in the pouch and sliding the pouch into the front of her jeans, pulling her sweater out over the bulge to hide it. Opening the red pouch, she sighed as an ethereal white light poured from the dark depths of the bag. It was her last birthday present from her friends Underground, a perfect crystal, the size of a small plum. Ludo had given it to her the last time she saw him. He said he found it in some rubble that had been cleared out of the castle. When Sarah had peered into it, she saw the Room of Improbable Planes, where she made her leap of faith to save Toby. She wasn't sure what this crystal was, but she knew it contained pure magic and therefore, was valuable.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah placed a small amethyst crystal that had been a gift from a pagan friend into the red pouch. Reaching into her jeans pocket, Sarah fished out the one bit of cold iron she was never without, a small flat disk the size of a quarter. One side was carved with the image of a barn owl holding a crystal in its talons, the other was carved with an elaborate Celtic love-knot – a protection amulet.

Muttering a silent prayer, Sarah tied the cord of the red pouch, sealing the crystals and the amulet safely inside, before slipping the long cord over her neck and tucking the crystal neatly between her breasts, where no one would be the wiser to it's presence. As the pouch settled against her skin, she felt the tell-tale electric warmth against her breastbone. Yes. There was magic within it, and the longer she wore it, the more she felt it running through her veins.

Sarah then turned her attention to the silk wrapped box, what she thought of as her Fae fighting 'big guns'. Gently she untied the silk wrapping, her fingers caressing the carved wooden box, tracing the protective knot work, inlaid with ivory and mahogany, a gift from her grandmother who brought it over from Ireland. It was said that the box had been fairy made for her great-great-great grandmother and was powerful. Sarah hoped this was true. True or not, it held the items she prayed she would never need.

After her adventure in the Labyrinth, her fear of the Goblin King and what may happen got the better of her. Soon she started to research everything she could find out about the 'Fair folk', unfortunately, in the US, that proved to be a difficult task. So, Sarah constructed an elaborate lie, convincing her father she had been accepted to study in Wales for two summers as an exchange student. Amazingly enough, he bought it – both figuratively and literally. He believed the story and even footed the bill for her room and board overseas. In truth, she spent the summers speaking to anyone and everyone, from professors to pub-patrons, up and down Scotland, Wales and Ireland, cataloguing tales of the Fae, and in particular, how to thwart them and protect yourself from them. The results of her research were kept safely in her fairy box.

Sarah said a small prayer of protection as she opened the box, taking out a gun. Her mother insisted on buying her the small Walther PK380 when she moved out on her own, and forced her into regular shooting practice. Although she thought it was silly at the time, she became quite a good shot and after doing her research, she decided it was a potentially useful way of combating the Fae, if their aversion to cold iron was to be believed. Thanks to the emergence of para-military groups in the US, it didn't take much to find someone who was willing to create specialty bullets for her, bullets with cold iron tips, embedded and coated with blood ruby dust.

Time and again during her research overseas, she heard stories of how cold iron was a way to ward off the Fae. Some people even suggested that should the Fae be wounded with it, they would die an agonizing death by necrotic poisoning.

The blood rubies on the other hand, were an accidental find. They were first mentioned to her by a small Irishman in a tiny borough outside Donegal. She told him that she was planning a trek to Grianan of Aileach, a stone work ring and earthwork mound that legends said was an entrance to the land of fairy. The wizened old man patted her hand and begged her to come with him to his shop.

Something about him told her that she should trust him, so she followed him around the corner from the pub, to a jewelry shop – his jewelry shop. There he told her about the power of blood rubies, and gave her a selection of blood rubies that were too small to set into jewelry. According to legend, they were infused with the power of Danu and would protect the wearer from unscrupulous Fae trickery and magic. Other legends said that ground blood rubies, used to coat weapons acted as a quick acting poison for the Fae.

Sarah checked that her gun was loaded and slid two extra magazines of ammo into her jacket pockets.

Flipping up her shirt, Sarah strapped on her back holster before slipping the small gun into the clip at the small of her back, feeling oddly stronger with the reassuring weight as it pressed against her spine.

' _Oh Gods…I hope I don't ever need this,'_  she thought.

Returning to the box, Sarah lifted out a small scrap of scarlet silk. Removing the silk, she lightly touched the jewelry within, slipping the earrings, ring and bracelet on as she remembered how they had become part of her collection.

Before leaving the jeweler's shop, Sarah bought an antique blood ruby necklace, set in what appeared to be a gold mount, that was actually gold-plated, cold iron, a necklace she had not taken off since the day she purchased it. Two years later she had been contacted by the old man's solicitor. He had been so taken with her when they spoke at the pub, that he left the rest of the blood rubies in his possession to her upon his death, seven grams of small blood rubies, as well as the earrings, ring and bracelet that completed bridal set of blood ruby jewelry.

Sarah leaned momentarily against the desk, looking at the door leading out of her study as she struggled to calm her breathing. The rain outside picked up, with the wind howling wildly around her building, making the windows shudder in their frames as the lightening flashed, lighting the room with bright strobe effects. Lifting the vodka bottle, she took a long swig, gasping as the liquid burned its way down, clearing her mind and steeling her nerves, before pulling the last three items from the box.

She pulled out a black leather envelope, carefully opening it on the desk. Her nimble fingers pulled out two cold iron anthames, each sharpened with a serrated blade on one side and a razor smooth blade on the other – something extremely difficult to accomplish with iron, but well worth the money she spent to find an ironsmith who could do it. Just like the bullets, each blade was embedded with a coarse layer of blood ruby dust. Sarah slid the anthames into the clips at her hips, allowing her sweater and the leather jacket to fall over them.

The final item in the box seemed the least useful, as it could only be used as a last line of defense, since if she needed to use it the enemy would close enough to kill her, but she refused to go down without getting in one last, and hopefully deadly blow. Sarah pulled out a pair of black, kangaroo leather gloves, a gift to herself when she visited Australia the year before. Smoothing them onto her slender hands, she nodded. Embedded in the tip of each index finger was a fine needle of cold iron, beaded roughly with the last of the blood ruby dust.

Standing, she looked into the mirror by the door and what she saw surprised her. The mirror reflected what her gran would have called a  _kelle_ , Celtic warrior woman, her long dark hair falling in careless waves over her shoulders, framing the pale ivory skin of her face, a faint rose tint naturally staining her cheeks. Deep emerald eyes stared back at her from the mirror, flickering with steely determination and defiance.

She was no longer some silly 15 year-old dreamer.

No.

She was now a force to be reckoned with.

Picking up the small leather backpack by the desk, she emptied the contents on the floor, before chucking the bottle of vodka into it. She dug through her desk drawers before adding several power bars, a bag of trail mix and her water bottle. Sarah slipped the bag over her shoulder and headed for the hallway.

' _Forgive me Toby. I set this whole thing in motion and so help me, I will end it if it is the last thing I do,'_  she thought as she moved toward her bedroom.

Although her bedroom was only several feet away, it seemed like the longest walk of her life. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob to her bedroom, Sarah took a deep shuddering breath, her eyes fluttering shut as gathered her courage, afraid of what she would find inside and praying that should find nothing more than the remnants of her thesis.

_**Nothing…nothing tra-la-la**_.

Sarah gasped softly, unsure if that was a voice from her memory, her past or the room in front of her.

Letting out a long, wavering breath, Sarah gently opened the door to her room. A low moan escaping her lips at the sight that greeted her.

Sitting in the middle of her vanity was a perfectly clear crystal orb, its ethereal blue glow shimmering as its reflection bounced off her mirror. Laying next to the crystal was a white feather. Together they were a clear calling card.

He had been there.

He had invaded her space, despite her protections.

The Goblin King was back and trouble came with him.

 


	2. Beware of Kings Bearing Warnings

_**Beware of Kings Bearing Warnings** _

Sarah growled low in her throat as she moved toward her vanity. Seeing the crystal and feather, she knew he had been here, the more pressing question was whether he was still lurking about. Her eyes scanned the shadows of the room, knowing it was in vain. If the Goblin King wanted to hide in the shadows, then a mere mortal like her wouldn't see him until he was ready to be seen. The only thing she could do was call him out.

"I know you're here Goblin King," she spat, her voice low, not quite a snarl but close enough to make her fury known, "You have no power here so you can bloody well show yourself."

A deep chuckle rumbled around the room, Sarah spun quickly, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, her eyes frantically darting into the dark corners as the sound seemed to come from every direction at once.

"Now, now Sarah... I mean you no harm," came the somewhat bemused sounding reply. "In fact Precious, what I have to say may well save your life."

Snarling now, Sarah picked up the crystal from the vanity, preparing to throw it toward the sound of the voice. As soon as her gloved hand touched the crystal, an arc of electricity flew through her arm and into her chest, making her cry out. Staring in shock at the crystal, she noticed it began to glow brighter.

Jareth watched the crystal react to her touch with great interest, his angular features narrowing as he considered what that might mean.

"No harm?" she countered, a shrill note lacing her voice, "How is taking my brother not harmful? Give him back you Fae bastard!" Sarah demanded, her body tense as she waited to hear him speak again, praying he would give away his position and give her time to strike.

As her anger built, the crystal began to glow red, the light getting brighter with each passing moment. Squeezing the crystal tightly, she found that it was now burning hot to the touch, scalding the flesh of her hand through the leather glove. Without thinking, Sarah tossed it upward, gasping as it hung in mid-air, casting an eerie red glow around the room.

Hearing the rustle of material behind her, Sarah whirled around, the glowing red crystal momentarily forgotten as she watched the Goblin King step from the shadows near her closet door.

Jareth looked from Sarah to the glowing red orb now hovering above her head. "

"Hmm….you  _have_  changed, Sarah dearest," he drawled, his lips turned up in a mocking sneer.

"And you haven't," Sarah snapped hotly, her emerald eyes flashing darkly as she studied the Goblin King's movements. "You are still an arrogant, egotistical, child-snatching creep. Now. Give. Toby. Back."

Jareth stood near the vanity, his posture exuding authority and a careless grace, yet the way in which he glared at her, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding, spoke of a malicious streak running just beneath his cool exterior. Her eyes washed over him, shivering unconsciously at the shimmer of his embossed, black leather armor, the breastplate and spaulders on his shoulders adding to his naturally imposing stature making him appear even more menacing than she remembered.

Squaring her shoulders, Sarah stood rigid, unwilling to appear weak before him. If it was a fight he was after, then by the Gods he would get it.

"I seem to recall having this conversation once before you with you, Sarah. It seems we are doomed to repeat our past…. mistakes," he said with quiet intensity, his tongue seeming to caress the last word, taunting her.

Sarah's eyes flickered violently at his jibe. "Yes, yes…I know very well where he is, blah, blah. Cut the crap, Goblin King…" she snorted dissmissively, only to be cut off by him.

"NO…YOU DON'T!" he roared, his face contorted in rage. "You have no idea what is at stake here, Sarah and unless you heed what I am trying to tell you, you will not only lose Toby, but your life and likely mine as well. So for once in your stubborn life, _obey me_  because time, my precious, precious pet, is far shorter than you think," he hissed violently.

Moving forward swiftly he gripped her leather covered wrists tightly in his hands, making her wince as he squeezed them, before pivoting her around and flinging her onto her bed. "Now…SIT!"

Seeing her move her hands toward her waist, Jareth clucked his tongue at her, "Seriously Sarah, must you always be so rash? Attacking me with your iron blades would only end up resulting in your death at the hands of the High Council and you would lose your brother anyway. Keep your weapons sheathed girl, you'll need them soon enough, and not for me, I assure you."

Sarah frowned, stilling her movements as she glared at him. He should not have known she was armed. This confrontation was not going as she had hoped, but then again, she had hoped this day would never come in the first place.

"Fine then Goblin King," she muttered darkly, sarcasm edging into her voice, " _Please_  explain why my brother is missing and the notorious, child-stealing prat of the Underground is in my bedroom."

Suddenly, Sarah found the Goblin King towering over her, a gloved hand flying out to grab the lapels of her leather jacket, hauling her bodily from the bed. Her body dangled in his hands as he pulled her toward him, his lips only inches from her own as he stared into her pale face. Glaring at her, he was pleased to see her eyes go wide with shock, a momentary flicker of fear clearly visible in their jade depths.

"You forget yourself, girl," he sneered venomously, his eyes darkening dangerously as he held her gaze. "If you want to survive this night, I strongly suggest you not forget who is king here and who is a mere mortal girl. A girl, I might add, who is currently wanted by the High Council of the Underground for treason against the Goblin Kingdom and an assassination attempt on its King."

Dropping her roughly to the bed Jareth stepped back, straightening his gloves as he watched conflicting emotions wash over her face. "You'd best adjust your tone…Sarah, or this will go very badly for you."

Sarah's mind raced in several directions at once. The feel of him so close to her sent shock waves through her body, as if it had awaked from slumbering far too long and she wanted him to touch her again. At the same time, his words bored into her mind, finally hinting at the seriousness of her situation.

"Treason…" she breathed, shaking her head. "What the hell are you talking about, Jareth."

Realizing that she had said his name, she cursed darkly, clapping a hand over her mouth sharply. Jareth raised a sardonic eyebrow at the sound of his name. For years he had longed to hear it from her lips, it was with a pang of regret that it had to happen now, when both of their lives hung in the balance.

"Yes, Precious. Treason. A charge that carries a death sentence in the Underground," he replied, his voice dropping lower, his fury giving way to veiled fear before he schooled his expression back to one of indifference.

Never taking his eyes from hers, he bent over and retrieved her satchel from where she had dropped it. Flipping it open, he pulled out the vodka bottle. Sarah watched as she opened the bottle, took a long draught then offered her the bottle.

"Here, Precious. I suspect you're going to need this before long. We don't have much time to get you prepared for what is coming and I need you calm and in control, for the moment at least," he said, his voice quieter now, almost gentle.

Sarah shook her head, "Why should I trust you, Goblin King?" she asked, giving him a wary look as she accepted the offered bottle.

"What choice do you have, Sarah?" he shrugged as he began to pace the length of the room, the rhythmic sound of his boots on the wooden floor seeming to sooth her nerves.

"I….I don't know," she admitted, defeat showing in her face. Sarah frowned, hanging her head as she hunched over her knees, glad for the chocolate colored tresses that hid her pain from view. She knew she was losing this confrontation and the thought of letting him see her pain at his winning was almost more than she could bear.

Leaning against her vanity, Jareth studied the young woman before him. She had changed, yes. Grown up and become a stunning woman, albeit still stubborn, willful and defiant, and by the Gods he wanted her more now than when she was 15. Unfortunately, if he couldn't get through to her soon, he would lose her for good this time.

"First of all, Toby is safe, for as long as I retain my throne at least," Jareth began, nodding encouragingly as she took a drink from the bottle. "The fact is Sarah, you were never supposed to reach the castle and neither of you were supposed to return home."

"I had to save Toby. I couldn't let you just turn him into a goblin," she protested, gesturing angrily with the vodka bottle.

Shaking his head, Jareth scowled at her, "There is so much you don't understand, Precious, and I don't have time to explain it all tonight. Toby was never in danger of becoming a goblin. I planned to make him my heir and while you were running the Labyrinth I made the mistake of declaring that intention to the High Council and that is partly why we, you and I, are in the predicament we currently find ourselves."

Jumping up from the bed, Sarah roared in outrage, "YOU did this, Jareth?"

Before she could think of what she was doing, Sarah lashed out at him, her hand flying toward his face, her fingertips curled toward his cheekbone. The iron needle embedded in her glove flickered evilly in the glow of the crystal still hovering above them. In one swift movement, Jareth blocked her arm with his, the force of her swing being stopped so suddenly jolting Sarah to her very core. He gripped her wrist in a crushing fist, before twisting her arm behind her back. Pulling her tightly against his breastplate, he snarled ferociously in her ear.

"Sheath those claws, Pet. You don't want to add another assassination attempt to your list of crimes. One more attempt like that and I will restrain you. And believe me Precious, I would rather restrain you for far more pleasurable pursuits, but that will have to wait until we have managed to save your life, because at the rate you are going the chances of you living through the next 48 hours are rapidly dwindling."

Jareth tossed her once more onto her bed, shaking his head in frustration as he looked at her. Reaching up, he rubbed the bridge of his nose against the headache that was threatening him.

"What is done, is done, Sarah. I announced my intention and then you, against all probable outcomes, defeated the Labyrinth a feat that had never before been accomplished," Jareth continued, running a gloved hand through his hair as he paced.

"So, I made it to your castle. I said the words. I won, fair and square. I fail to see how that means you get Toby back and I get charged with crimes against the crown," Sarah groused, her pale features knotted in aggravation as she drank from the bottle.

Sighing, Jareth shook his head as he gazed at her. Sarah's frustration faltered seeing the look on his face. He suddenly looked very tired, his lips pursed under the strain of an unreadable emotion.

"From the moment you set foot Underground, you were considered a citizen of my kingdom. Neither of you were supposed to leave once that happened. Toby was to be my heir and you… you were to remain with me, the Labyrinth had marked you for that fate as soon as you entered the gates. You were to remain, as queen, consort, paramour or slave,  _but you were supposed to stay_ ," Jareth said, his voice laced with pain as he related a part of their story that she was never meant to know, one he had carefully hidden from her for the past 10 years.

Her eyes narrowed at this admission.

"I was only 15, Jareth. 15! What the hell were you thinking?" she spat indignantly.

"It was not my choice to make, Precious. You must understand, I am bound to the Labyrinth and my kingdom in a way that no other King of the Underground is bonded to their kingdom. As such, I have no say in matters of Queen-ship, it is for the Labyrinth to decide and it decided on you. I tried to get you to stay, in fact I begged that you stay, but you refused."

Sarah leaned her body against the wall of her bedroom, trying to force her brain to make connections with everything she was hearing. Thumping her head hard against the wall she grunted, her eyes shut tight as she considered this.

"No…no. That is not what you were offering. I remember your offer vividly and it wasn't 'Stay and be my queen'. That is utter bullshit, Jareth and you know it," she snapped viciously. "It was tantamount to a slavery contract. Fear me. Love me. Do as I say…."

"…And I will be your slave. The slavery of love goes both ways, Precious. You say so yourself in your thesis."

Snapping her head up, Sarah gazed at him sheepishly, "You…wha…..You read that?"

Jareth merely smirked wickedly at her.

Waving a hand dismissively at the Goblin King, Sarah grumbled petulantly, "We can argue about my thesis and your offer later. Stick to the point, Goblin King.  _Why_  am I being charged with treason and an attempt on your life?"

Jareth nodded, a sly smile shining in his pale eyes, "I look forward to that argument more than you can possibly imagine, Precious."

Sarah growled in irritation at him.  _How on earth can he make something like a debate sound like a proposition at a moment like this_  – she thought.

"The treason charge comes from something that I think you inadvertently took from the Labyrinth. In solving the Labyrinth you formed a bond with it and when you left, you took part of the Labyrinth's essence with you. The Labyrinth wanted you, so in order to help you, it bestowed some magic on you, part of the magic that kept the Labyrinth from being deadly. The removal of that part of the Labyrinth damaged it, twisting it into a dark, evil parody of what it was meant to be. Every runner who has tried in the last two years has perished before breaching the inner walls."

"Not only did removal of that magic destroy the once noble purpose of the Labyrinth, it weakened my powers as well. This meant that I was unable to fully repair the damage you did to the Goblin City or the castle, as I was trapped in the void between the worlds until the Labyrinth could heal itself sufficiently for me to return to my kingdom. Trapping me there without my powers, led to the assassination attempt charge."

"That isn't fair," Sarah protested vehemently, blushing faintly at the amused smirk that teased the corners of his mouth at her outburst. "Well….it isn't, " she continued. "I didn't do either of those things on purpose and you bloody well know it, Jareth!"

"I know that Precious, believe me, I know that. However, unlike what passes for a judicial system Aboveground, intent is not considered in Underground judicial procedures, only outcome. And that is where we are currently," he sighed quietly, reaching to pluck the bottle from her hands.

Taking another swallow of the bitter liquid, Jareth resumed his restless pacing.

"I have spent the last few years of your time, trying to appease the High Council, making the case that you could not possibly have known what you were doing. My arguments have been in vain, Precious. As of yesterday, the Council decreed that I had to retrieve my heir, or forfeit my throne. I had no choice in the matter, Sarah. My plan was to wait until Toby turned 18 Above, then make myself known to him and let the choice be his."

Sighing, Sarah nibbled her lip as she considered his explanation. She knew she had to ask, but she was dreading the answer. Swallowing hard, she fought to keep her voice steady.

"So what does all of this have to do with me surviving tonight and the next few days?" she asked, relieved that her voice only cracked slightly.

Jareth sat on the bed next to her, a leather-gloved hand lightly caressing her cheek as he turned her face toward him. Seeing the concern in his eyes, Sarah knew without a doubt that what he said was true. She was in danger.

"Because, Precious," he said softly, his tone gentle but firm, "The High Council is preparing to send guards to arrest you. How soon I do not know. It would be safer for you and help your case, if you would surrender to me as King of the offended lands, rather than waiting to be arrested."

Frowning, Sarah found herself imitating Jareth as she pinched the bridge of her nose, welcoming the sharp sting of the iron needle as it pierced her. Jareth watched her as she worked to digest all that he had told her. Tenderly he ran his index finger over the crimson droplet that was pooling in preparation to slide down the side of Sarah's nose. As he touched her, she felt a warm tingling, before realizing that he had healed the puncture.

"Jareth," she almost whispered, unable to look him in the eye, "Will my parents remember us?"

A wan smile passed across the Goblin King's face as he caressed her chin, a wistful look flashing in his mismatched eyes.

"That is one of the things I've always admired about you, Precious Sarah, the fact that even in the worst of circumstances, your first concern is for others," he sighed softly. "All traces of your existence will be erased. No one will remember you ever lived Aboveground."

Sighing sadly, Sarah hugged her knees to her chest. Laying her head against her knees, she tried not to give in to the fear that was threatening to consume her.

"I hope you appreciate the irony inherent in the fact that my childhood villain is the one trying to help me stay alive, because I'm not sure I can at the moment," she muttered bitterly.

Jareth chuckled softly glad to see that her sense of humor was still intact despite everything. He fervently hoped that if he could keep her alive for the next few days, that she might someday see him as far more than a villain.

"So how does keeping your throne and life figure into all of this?" she asked, a pained expression pooling in her eyes.

"Simply put, without an heir I cannot stand as King and the only way to formally remove a king is by their death, Sarah."

Sarah groaned, her hands clenching around the bedspread she sat on. Taking a deep breath, she sat up to lean against the wall.

"What is going to happen to me, Jareth. The truth now. All of it, please. I've got a right to know what I'm facing," she asked, her voice calm and quiet, although her green eyes were dulled by fear.

"If you surrender to my care tonight, I will keep you safe until after the trial, which in all likelihood will take place at my castle within the next two days. Having you in my castle means I can try to prepare you for whatever sentence the Council imposes. However, if you choose to wait, then eventually the High Court Guard will show up and arrest you formally. They will take you to the High Court of the Underground and there you will await trial in the dungeons."

Leaning her head back against the wall, Sarah's eyes fell shut. Swallowing hard, she wiped her eyes as several stray tears began their descent down her cheeks.

"Is there any way I can avoid a death sentence? Anything at all, Jareth? I don't care how remote it may be."

Without a word he reached out to her, pulling her close to him until she was nestled in his embrace. The feel of his arms around her, something she had longed to experience for so many years, reduced her resolve to tatters and the tears fell, their crystalline countenance shimmering as they glistened upon the royal regalia of the Goblin King.

Jareth let her cry for a few minutes. He had a plan, but he knew she wouldn't like it. In fact, he was sure she was going to hate it and would fight it tooth and nail, but in the end things would be set right. He would have Toby as an heir and Sarah too, regrettably not under the terms of his original offer to her, but at least she would be alive. In the end, that is all that mattered.

"I have a plan, Precious. But in order for it to work you have to do two things that I know will be difficult for you," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

Sarah felt the air shift around him as his tone changed, his authority and power hanging in the air around them. It was then that she knew, without a doubt, that whatever he planned to do to give her a fighting chance, she was going to have to give him power over her. Groaning at this realization, she instinctively buried her face against his chest.

"You are going to have to trust me and obey me, Sarah – without question," he explained firmly. "Do what I tell you and trust there is a reason. If you can do that, then I think we stand a chance for you to keep your life. But you must know this, Precious, if this plan succeeds the life you will lead from here on out will not be anything like the life you have led or the life you could have led had you stayed with me when I first offered it."

Sarah sighed deeply, wishing fervently that this was all some horrible nightmare. Pushing herself away from his embrace, Sarah lifted her head to meet his crystal gaze, her eyes glinting with defiance and strength as she resigned herself to her fate at his hands.

"Okay then Goblin King… I willingly give you power over me to help save my life,  _if_ you give me your word that you will look after Toby and keep him safe for me."

Jareth looked at her, his expression serious as he nodded, "Precious, if this works, I give you my word that I will not only look after Toby, but you as well."

Stripping off her gloves, Sarah shoved them into her jacket pocket before holding out her hand to Jareth who took her hand tenderly, flipping it so her fingers curled over his as he brought her knuckles to his lips.

"Agreed?" he asked, his voice a velvet purr against her bare skin, as his lips brushed against her hand.

"Agreed," she murmured, the feel of his breath on her skin threatening to short-circuit her brain.

As soon as the word was out of her mouth, the room faded away, replaced with swirling black and blue mists as they moved through the veil between worlds.

 


	3. The Plan

_**The Plan  
** _

The feeling of the world falling from under her feet was too much for Sarah, her eyes snapping shut involuntarily at the odd sensation, a cross between falling and floating – and very disorienting. When her feet touched the ground next she released the breath she had been holding, embarrassed by the way she was gripping Jareth's arm. Taking a deep breath she cracked her eyes, finding herself standing before a roaring fireplace in a room with stonewalls. It was the walls that told her where she was.

"The castle beyond the Goblin City," she whispered, more to herself than Jareth.

Seeming to ignore her, Jareth moved toward the fireplace. He unfastened his leather cloak, letting it fall over the arm of the chair before turning to Sarah, a supercilious smirk pulling at his lips as he watched her…waiting. He could tell the moment it hit her by the look of sheer outrage and loathing that engulfed her face.

"YOUR ROOM?" she howled upon seeing the elaborate bed in the corner, covered with a feathered bedspread. "This had better be some badly thought out joke, Jareth! I may be facing an execution squad, but I sure as hell am not going to sleep with you solely for that reason," she hissed, her tone dripping with venom as she glared at him hatefully.

The Goblin King sneered at her, his lips curled in a cruel smile. "My dear Sarah, if all of this was some elaborate ruse to bed you, I would have done it before we left your apartment as I am  _not_  known to be patient when it comes to taking what I want."

A ripple of sadistic pleasure shot through him as her face fell. He could read the look in her eyes as plainly as if she said it aloud, she was hurt that he didn't want her. Although that was far from the truth, for what must happen over the next few days it would be better for both of them if she continued to think she was unwanted.

Struggling to control herself, Sarah stalked toward him, her hands balled into fists at her sides as she challenged his response.

"Then tell me, Goblin King, why the hell are we in your bedroom? I'm pretty sure this isn't part of the doomed woman's grand tour," she snapped sarcastically.

"First of all, you are not yet doomed and if you do what I say it is likely that you will not face execution at all. And secondly, I don't want anyone to know you are here as I am trying to buy us some time to prepare you for what is to come," he growled, his pale eyes narrowing in frustration as he glared at her. "My chambers are the only place in this kingdom where your presence will remain a secret, for at least the next day."

Sarah visibly deflated at his explanation, her shoulders slumping as her head dropped.  _Damn him…it makes sense,_ she thought ruefully. Sarah opened and closed her mouth several times as she tried to formulate a reply, only succeeding in muttering, "Oh…okay."

"Now, if you are quite through with your outbursts for the moment, perhaps we can get down to business, Precious," Jareth said, his tone sharp with irritation.

Gesturing toward the bed, he pointed to her satchel, "Divest yourself of  _all_  iron and weapons," he instructed, his faced composed in an expressionless mask.

"Um…I don't  _think_  so," she retorted, her hands moving protectively toward her hips.

Two strides took him to her side, his hand quickly finding purchase in her hair he gathered it tightly at the nape of her neck. Twisting his fist just enough to make her wince, Jareth pulled her face toward his. His eyes darkened as he glowered at her.

"That was  _not_  a request, Sarah," he hissed fiercely. "You have two things to do until this mess has been cleared up – obey and trust me – either you do that or I  _will_   _gladly_  turn you over the High Council myself. It matters not a jot to me whether you live or die. I have Toby now, my throne, for the moment, is secure."

It was a lie and he knew it. He would move the stars if he needed to in order to save her life if he could, but he needed her to stop fighting him and thinking that she was expendable might just do the trick.

Jareth gripped her hair harder, shaking her head briefly before thrusting her from him toward the bed.

" _Don't_  defy me on this, Sarah. You gave me power over you, Precious, if I must I will  _make_ you obey. But this will all go easier on both of us if you just do as I say."

Sarah stumbled as he released her, her eyes flashing angrily at him. Rubbing her head she made her way toward the bed where she did as he instructed, muttering darkly all the while.

Settling into his chair by the fire, Jareth watched as Sarah removed the various protections she carried. She removed the blood ruby jewelry first, carefully tucking the parts into her leather gloves to protect them, before placing them in the satchel. Then she plucked the iron anthames from her hips, placing them in the inner pocket of the bag. Next she removed the torc and the blue pouch with the amulets in it, but it was the red pouch she took from around her neck that drew his attention, magic seeping from within it.

"Remove the iron and bring that bag to me," he demanded, his pale eyes intent on her as she moved.

Without questioning him, she did as he instructed, grumbling petulantly as she handed him the bag. Jareth's face flickered with surprise when he opened the pouch, before quickly schooling his features into his characteristic emotionless state.

"Do you have any idea what this is, Precious," he enquired, pulling the small crystal from the bag and balancing it effortlessly on his fingertips.

"Ludo gave it to me for my twentieth birthday. It is a crystal that he found in some rubble that was discarded from the castle," she replied, her fingers twitching as she fought the urge to snatch the crystal back from him.

Flipping the crystal around his hand, Jareth watched the images form inside it, the clear skin of the crystal glowing faintly.

" _This_ , my dear Sarah, is the last crystal I offered you when you were here the first time," he breathed softly, unable to believe their luck that this particular item had found its way into her possession. "Inside it is a remnant of my own magic, Precious."

Casually, the Goblin King flicked the crystal to Sarah, who caught it quickly. As he suspected, when her hands touched the crystal it flashed to life, a brilliant blue glow emanating from within it as it replayed images from their time in the Room of Improbable Planes.  _If she can activate my crystals, I wonder what other power she has now_ , he wondered.

"You won't be able to keep the pouch Sarah, as the cord around your neck will be too obvious to the High Council. However, this crystal is special. I want you to find a way to secret it on your person and do not remove it for  _any_  reason," he instructed quietly, the intensity of his voice making her tremble despite herself.

Turning away from him, Sarah flipped up her sweater and tucked the crystal into her bra, settling it so it would not show. Once the crystal was secreted on her body, she unfastened her holster, carefully setting the lock on the gun before placing it and the spare magazines into her bag.

Seeing the gun, Jareth smirked wickedly at her, raising a sculpted eyebrow in surprise.

"Were you really going to use a gun on me, Sarah?" he drawled silkily. "Do you hate me that much, Dearest?"

Sarah tossed her head back, deep brown tendrils flowing over her shoulders as she frowned at him, "If you had attacked me, then yes. I figured I had nothing to lose and everything to gain."

Nodding, Jareth gave her an approving smile.

"Good. If my plan works, I fully expect you to take every advantage you can and do whatever you need to do in order to survive," he murmured, his eyes glinting dangerously in the firelight.

"Yeah well, without my weapons and protections, I doubt I'll be able to do much of anything," she said bitterly. Perching gingerly on the edge of his bed, her hands lightly caressed the fluffy feathers of the bedspread as she fought the nagging fear that was settling into the pit of her stomach.

Sighing deeply, Jareth scowled at her.

"When are you going to realize that you must trust me in this Sarah. I will not leave you defenseless," he snapped in exasperation.

"Well getting snippy with me is hardly reassuring,  _Your Majesty_ , after all I'm the one with my neck on the chopping block,  _not you_ ," she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Quickly he was towering over her once more, his strong hands hoisting her from the bed in one swift movement, eliciting a startled yelp from Sarah.

"And what of  _your_  attitude, Precious?" he hissed poisonously, his voice sliding into her chest as if it were a knife, "I am after all, trying to save your bloody life!  _Why_  must you fight me at every turn?  _Why_  must you insist on being irritating, infuriating and…."

Jareth faltered.

Having her so close to him after so long, fighting against him as the equal she had claimed herself to be when she defeated him, it was too much to bear.  _To hell with the consequences,_  he thought before crushing her to him, his lips seeking hers with a hunger he had not thought possible.

Jareth knew the kiss surprised her, even more than it surprised him. Sarah's body went rigid against his then just as suddenly as she tensed up he felt her melt toward him, kissing him back fiercely. The sensation of her responding so passionately nearly undid him.

_Ye Gods….she will be the death of me yet_ , he mused, his inner-self and baser instincts at war with one another as he fought the urge to throw her down and ravish her then and there.

With more force of will than he thought possible, Jareth pushed Sarah away from him, seeing her glazed eyes open wide in shock as she landed back on the bed. Then just as quickly, they flashed brightly, pools of emerald lava snapping angrily at him.

"What the fuck was that, Jareth?" she demanded, a shrill note lacing her response.

"The fine line between lust and loathing, Pet…nothing more," he sneered, trying to quell the conflicting emotions that coursed through him, eating away at his resolve.

He wanted to shake her for being a spoiled brat. He wanted to taste more of her. Yet at the same time he wanted her out of his life so he could move on. Nothing about dealing with Sarah was ever simple – not ten years ago and certainly not now.

Without a word he spun from her, moving toward the fireplace, an audible growl rumbling from deep inside him.

His gloved fist lashed out.

Blinking slowly, Jareth heard a scream. It took him a moment to realize it was Sarah. Looking down, he saw crimson droplets pouring over his clenched fist, dripping slowly onto the shattered shards of the mirror that now littered the floor.

Sarah launched herself from the bed, grabbing a silk scarf from her satchel as she ran to Jareth. Seeing the stunned expression on his face, she gently steered him to sit in his chair. Sarah gingerly turned his hand, checking for embedded glass. She breathed a shuddering sigh of relief when the wound looked clean. Her delicate fingers tenderly slid the glove from his injured hand, wincing as the leather grazed the seeping cuts.

Wrapping his hand in the silk scarf, Sarah sat back on her heels and looked up at him. Jareth wasn't sure which was worse, the look of unbridled hatred she gave him when he broke the kiss, or the concern that filled her eyes as she peered at him.

The tension in the air was nearly palpable, threatening to suffocate her. The look Jareth gave her made her breath catch in her throat, his usually pale eyes were nearly black as he looked at her. Apparently, her thesis had been correct, at least where the Goblin King was concerned. Blurring the line between lust and loathing was certainly a powerful aphrodisiac, as evidenced by the look of unadulterated hunger that Jareth was now giving her. The longing in his eyes, combined with his feral smirk made her shiver, goosebumps racing down her spine.

Trying to lighten the mood, Sarah gave him a shaky smile, quipping, "Honestly, Jareth, there have to be more constructive ways to deal with your frustration than breaking mirrors. I don't know about you, but I think we are already dealing with enough problems, we don't need seven more years of bad luck."

His voice was rough as he answered, "If it were not for the problems we are now facing, I would be dealing with my frustration in a drastically different manner and believe me, it would be far more enjoyable – for both of us."

Sarah sighed. He was infuriating. One minute he was propositioning her, the next he claimed not to care if she lived or died. Then just as quickly, his kiss was devouring her as if he were a condemned man and she were his last meal. She knew what she wanted, what she had desired for the last ten years – him; but with the way he ran hot and cold, she couldn't get a bead on what he wanted.

Leaning her back against the chair across from him, Sarah closed her eyes and sighed.

"So, now that we've established that we are both on edge, irritating, infuriating and suffering from an incredible amount of pent up sexual frustration, can we agree to ignore them for the moment and deal with them  _after_  we save my life?" she proposed with a nervous chuckle, desperate to break the awkward feeling that seemed to wrap around them.

"I shall hold you to that, Precious," he drawled with a tired smile.

… _Amongst other things_ , interjected his inner-self.

With her head lying on the seat of the chair, Sarah stared at the ceiling of his room. Stifling a yawn, she felt the irresistible urge to shut her eyes to rest, if only for a moment.

"You need to sleep, Sarah," he said, his voice once again soft, a soothing caress against her frazzled psyche.

Sighing deeply, she nodded. "Yes…as do you. But before I sleep, I want to know what your plan is. I want as much time as possible to prepare mentally for what comes next."

Jareth unwrapped his injured hand, letting the blood soaked scarf fall carelessly to the floor beside him. Pulling off his other glove, he ran his fingertips carefully over the cuts, flinching slightly at the sting of knitting flesh, as the cuts healed themselves.

Watching Jareth heal himself without so much as a second thought, Sarah chuckled, a wan smile glinting mischievously in her sad eyes.

"Nifty parlor trick, Goblin King. There are clearly perks to being Fae," she teased.

"More than you can imagine, Pet," came the quiet reply. "As to my plan, it is fairly simple. You are charged with treason for destroying the Labyrinth, therefore I plan to convince the High Council to let the punishment fit the crime."

Sarah looked up at him with trepidation, "You want me to run the Labyrinth… Again?"

Jareth merely nodded. With a subtle flick of his wrist, a plate of fruit, cheese and bread appeared on a low table between then.

"Eat something, Sarah. You need to keep up your strength."

Without thinking Sarah grabbed an apple from the tray, taking a vicious bite as she shook her head.

"You can't be serious! You said that no one in the last two years has survived past the outer layers," she protested, chewing thoughtfully as she considered this.

"True, but then again, you are the Champion of the Labyrinth. I would hope you are stronger and smarter than those who perished," Jareth replied.

Looking at him intently, she frowned at his cool, expressionless face.

"Would it kill you to show a little concern since you seem intent upon throwing me to the wolf that is your now, out-of-control Labyrinth?" she snapped testily. "And even if I make it to the center, what then? Do you expect the High Council to just pat me on the head, say 'well done you' and turn me loose?"

"No, I expect that they will then turn you over to me to deal with as the offended party," he replied, coolly biting into the peach he was holding. "We'll figure out what to do with you when that happens."

Sarah munched distractedly on her apple, her appetite fading fast at the thought of fighting her way through a Labyrinth that was now deadly - it had been frightening enough the first time around.

"But what if I can't get to the center? Then what will happen to me?" she asked, her eyes narrowed fitfully at the thought.

"That doesn't bear thinking of at this point, Precious. Focus on getting to the center. Nothing more."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, "You aren't the one who is going to be facing a pissed-off, sentient maze intent on destroying anyone who enters the gates."

Sarah returned to eating, cutting a slice of the fresh cheese to eat with her apple. As much as she hated the fact that he was right, she would need her strength if she were to get through the more deadly Labyrinth. Sarah paused in mid-bite, her green eyes suddenly alight, "Jareth, if I took something from the Labyrinth, why can't I just give it back?"

Cocking his head, Jareth studied Sarah intently. Yes, she was as smart as he remembered. It was an idea that had merit. The problem was how to accomplish it.

"I had considered that as an idea, Sarah," he sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair, fluffing up the strands of wild hair that were wilting as if trying to match his mood. "The difficulty is how to go about doing that. Short of human sacrifice, which would have the same result as you meeting an execution squad, I don't know how we could simply give the Labyrinth back the power it gifted you with."

They sat and ate for several minutes, each lost in thought attempting to puzzle out a way to return the magical essence Sarah had to the Labyrinth. In many ways, Jareth believed it was the most logical course of action but magic being what it is, to return it to its source was always a dodgy thing at best.

Sitting forward, Sarah's eyes sought Jareth's, piercing his with fierce determination. He could see her wrestling with something, as the words formed on her lips. Speaking more to herself than to him, she hopped up, pacing the room as she spoke.

"So….the Labyrinth is sentient and possesses magic of its own. The Lord of the Labryinth merely manipulates the Labyrinth. Am I right so far?" she asked, gesturing with the half-eaten apple.

Jareth nodded, raising an eyebrow as he tried to see where her thoughts were leading.

"Okay….and the Labyrinth gave me something of itself, call it the 'moral magic' if you will…the stuff that kept the Labyrinth from being lethal. Now, I have that part of the Labyrinth and as a result, it has become dark and deadly, and you as the guardian can no longer control it."

Sarah continued pacing as she thought this through. She was on the edge of something that might help. It was there, lurking around in the mist of her mind, taunting her.

As she stood on the balcony, looking out over the moonlit twists and turns of the Labyrinth, the answer came to her. It was so simple, that they had both overlooked it.

Rushing to his side she pulled Jareth from his chair and dragged him to the balcony. Sarah waved her hand, gesturing toward the landscape that stretched out below them.

"What do you see, Jareth?" she excitedly demanded.

"My kingdom and the Labyrinth," he replied wearily. "Honestly Sarah, now is not the time…."

"No, no, no," she scolded, her hand gripping his arm as she leaned further over the balcony railing. "Look closer!" she instructed, pointing toward the Labyrinth.

Jareth's eyes followed where she was pointing, watching as the walls of the Labyrinth moved of their own accord, something they did regularly.

"Sarah, you know as well as I that the walls and pathways of the Labyrinth change…" he sighed.

"… _At the whim of_   _the Labyrinth_ ," she exclaimed triumphantly. "That is how we give the magic back!"

Jareth stared at her, confused. He shook his head silently.

"Think about it…. In order for the Labyrinth to have a 'whim' in the first place, there has to be a brain of some sort. A heart. Something, somewhere that controls it. We have to find it. Once we find it, we should be able to come up with a way to give the power back," she blurted in a rush. "Once it has the power back, it should be able to heal itself, the kingdom, and set everything right!"

Nodding, Jareth pursed his lips, lost in thought as he considered her idea. It made sense the question was where the heart of the Labyrinth would be. The two of them discussed the matter a few minutes more, deciding to try the library first thing in the morning to see what they could learn in the history books.

Seeing Sarah yawn for the fifth time in as many minutes, Jareth decided they had both been awake long enough for one day. He looked pointedly at her and snapped his fingers ignoring the furious glare she gave him when she found herself clothed in a long linen nightgown.

"If you had just handed me the nightgown, I could have done it myself," she grumbled.

Jareth chuckled at her protestations, "And where would the fun be in that?" With an impish smirk burning in his eyes as he pointed toward the grand bed, "You. Bed. Now."

"I am not sleeping in your bed, thank you  _very_  much!" Sarah retorted, stomping back toward his bed-chamber. "Just give me a blanket and I'll curl up on the rug by the fireplace."

With a low growl of frustration, Jareth grabbed her shoulders, jerking her toward him until her back was pressed tightly against the hard leather of his breastplate.

"Really, Sarah… I tire of you constantly fighting me," he snarled in her ear. "As you so rightly put it,  _I_  am not the one facing a run through Labyrinth – you are. Therefore you need to get adequate sleep, so  _you_  will sleep in the bed. I have other things to attend to anyway."

Jareth frog-marched her to the bed, dumping her into the middle with ease. He stood over her, a faintly bemused smirk on his face as he watched her tug the covers down and climb under them. When she finally laid her head on the pillow he nodded.

Moving toward the door, he turned to look at her once more before extinguishing the lights. Sarah gasped softly seeing him silhouetted in the doorway. He was a puzzle; gentle and caring one minute, fierce and demanding the next. She longed to know what he was really thinking, but knew she would never find out because he hid too much.

"Good night, Precious," he whispered, the sound of his voice waking her from her reverie, making her tremble and bite back the urge to beg him to stay.

Then he shut the door.

BREAK

_Grey walls flashed past as she ran, her breath coming in short gasps that seared her throat on their way to her lungs. Tears were streaming down her face as she pushed on, her sneakers slapping wetly on the cobblestones. She skidded around a corner, landing hard on her knee in a puddle, a soft scream escaping her lips as whatever was chasing her closed in. Sarah felt for her gun, it wasn't there…none of her protections or weapons were. He'd tricked her. She was stuck in the Labyrinth and it was determined to kill her. The Goblin King had sent her to her death. The thing grabbed her in its wickedly sharp claws. Sarah cried out, flailing her arms at the monster grabbing her. Swinging wildly, she felt her fist connect against flesh, and heard the grunt._

"Bloody hell!" Jareth swore, struggling to restrain Sarah as she fought him off. "Sarah, wake up!"

Hearing his voice, Sarah's eyes popped open. She shuddered, gasping deeply at the sight of the Goblin King, his eyes bright and wild as he looked at her from a mass of feathery blonde wisps.

"Nightmare," she whispered, her voice cracking.

"Bad timing, I'm afraid, Precious," Jareth said, his voice urgent as he pulled her from the bed, before thrusting a stack of clothing into her hands and pushing her toward the bathroom. "Quickly, Sarah. You must change. The Royal Guard and High Council are on their way here."

Sarah whirled to look at him, the color draining from her face as her eyes widened in fear.

"Wha….How?" she moaned.

Shaking his head he muttered darkly, "They tried for you at your apartment shortly after we left. When they couldn't find you they decided you had been warned and tried to flee. I had no choice but to tell them that you had surrendered to me. Since you were already in my kingdom they decided to hold the trial immediately."

Sarah glanced toward the balcony, seeing that the sky was still dark but rapidly growing lighter as dawn approached. With a soft whimper she dropped the clothing on the bed and with one swift movement ripped the nightgown over her head. Seeing Jareth's eyes wash over her in surprise, she shrugged, tugging the dress from the pile of clothes he had given her.

"Fuck propriety, there isn't time," she cursed as she yanked the over her head."

Jareth couldn't help but smile at her outburst. She was far stronger than he gave her credit for.

Putting on the clothing Jareth had given her, Sarah frowned. There was no way she could get through the Labyrinth in a long dress and soft slippers. As hard as it was, she was trying to trust that he knew what he was doing, but the idea of fleeing the Labyrinth in an outfit more suited to a quiet evening at court did little to fill her with confidence.

Wrapping his arm around her, Jareth transported them into a small room with stone walls. Sarah peered around and groaned, it looked very similar to the oubliette he put her in the last time she was here. The barred door set into the wall told her it wasn't an oubliette, but a dungeon cell.

"Sarah, they will arrive soon and I will be unable to speak to you once they do," Jareth began, grabbing her hands in his as his gaze penetrated hers. "Listen to me Precious, and try to remember everything I'm about to tell you," he commanded, his eyes wild as he continued urgently. "The trial will happen quick. You will not be allowed to defend yourself. Do not speak. Let me handle things. And above all, you must keep your temper under control. Do you understand?"

Sarah nodded, her mind whirling frantically as she tried to come to terms with the fact that this was indeed happening, whether she was ready or not.

Leaning toward her, Jareth fastened a necklace of thin silver around her neck. Hanging from the delicate chain was a small silver pendant, a silver owl clutching a crystal orb in its claws. Jareth picked up the pendant in a gloved hand and spoke softly. The orb began to glow faint blue. Lightly caressing the orb with his fingers, the orb went dark once more.

"Do not take this off for any reason. Once you are in the Labyrinth I will be unable to come to you or to manipulate things. This necklace is your only link to me. Through it I will at least be able to monitor your progress," he explained, his voice strained, while he struggled to retain his indifferent mask. "If you feel you are in absolute mortal danger, break the chain and the crystal and it will transport you straight to me."

"But…won't that get you in trouble?" she asked, her emerald eyes shining with concern.

Jareth lightly kissed her forehead, "You still surprise me Precious. But stop worrying about me and think of yourself. I'm tough enough to look after myself in this."

"Do you remember the Labyrinth," he continued, cocking his head as if listening for a sound she couldn't hear.

"You mean the sentient maze that is going to try to kill me? Um yeah…pretty sure I haven't forgotten about that…."

"Don't be obtuse girl, we haven't time," he snapped, "You know I meant the book you used to read."

"Yes, of course I do. I practically memorized it," she whispered, his sense of urgency allowing the icy tendrils of panic to take hold of her.

"Good. Remember it… _all_ of it."

Looking toward the door, Jareth growled, his eyes dark as they returned to her.

"They have arrived, Precious. We are out of time. Trust that I will make sure you get what you need to protect yourself, the rest is up to you."

Biting back her fear, she squared her shoulders and looked at him, her emerald eyes filled with defiant fire, as she fought to calm her breathing.

"I'll see you when I get to the castle again," she said decisively, her voice even and sure despite the fear that had settled like ice in her veins.

"See that you do," he replied sharply, his fingers lightly caressing her lips before vanishing from the cell, leaving her utterly alone.

 


	4. Judge, Jury & Executioner

_**Ch. 4 - Judge, Jury and Executioner** _

Sarah fought hard after Jareth left to keep her fear in check. The idea that her fate would be decided and she couldn't even defend herself was such a foreign concept to her, that every time she thought of it, her mind ceased and the fingers of fear licked greedily at her heart.

Working to keep her fear at bay, Sarah swung the skirt of her dress between her legs and knotted it into the chain belt, effectively making a pair pantaloons. She stood in the center of the cell, her legs shoulder width apart and slightly bent. Sarah focused on breathing in slowly, stretching her body upward as she did so, before breathing out. Stretching her muscles she began her standard martial arts kata. As she concentrated on executing the defensive and offensive moves, she found that her fear eased, replaced with a sense of calm.

When she had exhausted her kata circuit, Sarah laid down on the small cot. The quiet ticking of the straw as it gave way beneath her body, was rhythmic and soothing. Within a few minutes she fell into a dreamless sleep and did not wake until she heard a key rattling in the lock of the cell door.

Sarah stretched and sat up to see a small goblin with a bulbous blue nose come in carrying a tray of food and a pitcher of water. She was thankful that he was a chatty little thing, because through him she that the trial was being set up to begin shortly.

"His Majesty said I was ta feed ya and ta make sure you ate it all," grumbled the goblin when Sarah tried to say she wasn't hungry.

Reluctantly, ate the meal Jareth had sent. Ordinarily she loved breakfast, but knowing that her fate would be decided shortly, she was a bit frustrated that what could be her last meal was just eggs on toast.

_The least he could have done was send me a steak and a loaded baked potato_ , she thought wryly, as she choked down another bite of the dry toast.  _Bloody hell…even some jam would be an improvement._

Seeing a peach on the tray she grimaced and looked at the goblin. As if reading her mind he snorted and shook his head. "Everything," he crankily declared.

Sarah sighed and slid the peach into her pocket. "I promise to eat it in a little bit, I am full now," she explained, relieved when the goblin seemed to believe her, as he left the cell, the door clanking shut with a loud bang.

After eating, Sarah forced herself to lay back on the bed and try to sleep some more, knowing that sleeping while trapped in the Labyrinth would be a dangerous thing. As she laid on the bed, she tried to remember all of the survival training and camping skills her father had taught her when she was a child.  _Too bad they don't sell 'How to Camp in the Underground' books Aboveground_ , she mused idly, while trying to remember how to start a fire without matches.

She was lost in her thoughts of outdoors skills when she heard keys in the door to her cell. Swinging her feet onto the floor, she stood up, flipping her skirt down from her belt to drape around her legs. Looking toward the door, she tried to look fearful and weak.  _It wouldn't do any harm to make them think that I am just a silly mortal girl_ , she reasoned.

Without a word, a slender Fae male entered the cell, his dark hair pulled back in a low braid that hung down his back in a thick rope. Behind him entered a short, burly dwarf carrying a set of shackles. The dwarf grunted at Sarah as he grabbed her hands, clamping the shackles tightly around them before dragging her roughly from the cell, causing her to stumble over the uneven floor.

As she was led through the castle, it occurred to Sarah that she didn't need to pretend to be afraid, as in truth, she was terrified. The fear had returned, making itself at home in the pit of her stomach and as a result, the contents of her meager breakfast were threatening to make a second appearance. She swallowed hard, frantically trying to dislodge the lump in her throat that promised to suffocate her.  _Suffocation would be a kinder death than dying by the hand of a psychotically lethal Labyrinth_ , she groaned inwardly.

Pushing her through a set of heavy wooden doors, the dwarf who was leading her grumbled darkly. Sarah gasped as she found herself in the throne room. While it was the throne room she remembered, the set up for the trial was much different. On the dais where Jareth's throne usually sat, was a row of six elaborately carved wooden chairs. The chairs were occupied by what she could only assume were the High Council members, each one robed head-to-toe in white, including a white cowl that hid their faces from sight.

Before Sarah knew what had happened, she had been chained to a ring in the middle of the throne room. Realizing her vulnerable position, Sarah felt the familiar wave of panic threaten to overcome her. Struggling to maintain her composure, she took several deep breaths, allowing her center of gravity to hold her in place, she felt her body relax as her eyes swept the room in search of Jareth. A soft whimper escaped her when she couldn't find him. Then she got mad.

_The bastard has abandoned me. I knew it. Never trust the villain,_ scolded her inner-self.  _You've seen enough horror movies to know what happens when a girl trusts the villain. They end up DEAD!_

_Thank you, Ms. Optimistic,_  she thought ruefully, although she had to agree with her inner-self.

At that moment, the doors to the throne room flew open and Jareth stalked in, the black leather of his cape swirling menacingly around his legs as he came to a stop near Sarah. She had never been so glad to see anyone in her life. Seeing the fury burning in his eyes she shivered, moving slightly away from him, her eyes fixed upon the chains at her feet.

"You are late King Jareth," intoned one of the robed figures. "We were preparing to begin without you."

Jareth laughed, the sound bitter and cold as it echoed around the throne room, drawing hesitant looks from the observers sitting in the gallery.

"Is it not bad enough that you insist on this trial when I have told you that no crime has been committed? But you dare come here - nay, invade my kingdom, take over my castle and perpetuate this travesty without me being present? I think not!" he growled, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I say again – no crime was committed. The Labyrinth gave Sarah the power willingly, nothing that happened as a result of that is her fault."

The robed council-member in the middle of the row of members stood, a deep voice booming into the throne room, "It is not your decision to make, King Jareth. Had the damage been limited to the Labyrinth itself, then the right to decide her case would rest with you. As the damage to the Labyrinth also banished you to the outer-mists, thereby prohibiting you from acting in your role as King, the right to decide the girl's fate rests with the High Court Council."

Around the room, people whispered at the pronouncement. With her head down, her hair falling in a veil to hide her face, Sarah cast a surreptitious glance at the observers. She was dismayed to see many nodding their heads, agreeing with the statement made by the council member.  _What were you expecting?_  snarked her inner-self,  _The observers to stand up and tell the council they are wrong?_

While peeking around the room, Sarah felt Jareth move closer to her. Before she could look at him, he wound a hand into her hair and thrust her onto her knees on the cold stone floor. Landing hard on her knees, Sarah cried out. Jareth snarled as he wrenched her head upward to look at him, his usually pale eyes dark in his anger, anger which rolled off of him in waves.

"Why did you destroy my Labyrinth, Girl?" he demanded harshly, his gloved hand giving her head a shake to punctuate his question.

Just as suddenly as he grabbed her, Jareth released his hold upon her hair, causing her balance to falter. Falling onto the stones of the floor, Sarah looked up at him angrily, her emerald eyes blazing they bored into him. Righting herself with a huff, she dusted off her skirt. Remembering what he had said earlier about losing her temper, Sarah took a deep breath before speaking.

"  _I_  didn't. Your Labyrinth destroyed itself when it gave me some of its power," she replied, surprised at how calm her voice sounded. "Power I didn't ask for and don't want."

"Then why did you accept the power, Girl?" asked one of the robed figures in a lilting feminine voice.

Turning to address the council-members, Sarah paused, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, "I didn't have a choice in the matter. I didn't know I had been given any power until His Majesty told me so yesterday. And as far as I know, I can't actually do anything with it willfully."

The council-members turned to one another, holding a quiet conference. As they spoke, several of them pointed at Sarah, gesturing angrily.

"You are aware that the penalty for the charges against you is death, are you not," asked another council-member, their voice gravelly and rough.

Sarah nodded, "Yes, His Majesty informed me of that."

"And yet you willingly turned yourself over to King Jareth knowing this?"

Blinking her eyes to force back the angry tears that threatened her, Sarah hung her head. She felt like an idiot for trusting Jareth now. After calming her breathing, she lifted her head to face the council deciding her fate once more.

"I may be terrified of what will happen because I have no wish to die, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let anyone think me a coward. So, yes. I knew what the punishment would be, and I surrendered willingly. I did not mean for anything to happen to the Labyrinth. If you must know, it pains me greatly that it has changed from the beautiful challenge it was, to the twisted death trap it has become," she replied, her voice cracking as the sadness in her heart laced her words.

Sarah felt Jareth move away from her, the sound of his boots against the hard stones, echoing inside her head in time with the pounding of her heart. She watched him stride toward the dais, stopping before the council-members. He turned momentarily and looked at her over his shoulder. Sarah gasped inwardly as for a fleeting second, his eyes looked worried and sad, before he blinked and they became icy once more.

"Since she maintains that she did not ask for the power, nor knowingly wield it to cause the damage that occurred, I move that the death penalty be removed from consideration and a punishment more in fitting with the crime be enstated," Jareth said, his face a carefully schooled mask of indifference, knowing it would never do for the council to have any hint that he cared about the fate of the girl. "While her fate is of no real consequence to me as I now have her brother as my heir, I do accept that she was not cognizant of her power and therefore should not be subject to death for something she had no knowledge of."

The council-members conferred once more. Sarah watched them dully, her emerald eyes faded as she tried to focus on what Jareth had said.  _He doesn't care about my fate? He has to be lying to them, or else why would he be trying to help me_ , she wondered.

-  _Maybe he isn't really trying to help you at all_ , countered her inner-self.  _Maybe he is trying to lure you into a trap, just giving you false hope?_

Finally the head council-member spoke, the voice firm and authoritative, "And just what do you propose as a fitting punishment for the girl's crimes."

_I'm standing right here you asshole_ , she thought sarcastically.  _And I'm hardly a girl anymore, dickhead._

Sarah watched as Jareth slowly moved closer to the members sitting upon the dais. Despite the dire situation in which she found herself, Sarah felt herself tremble at the power that emanated from Jareth as he stood in the room. It didn't matter that the council was sitting on the dais and his throne was no longer in the room, the way he stood and commanded the room clearly showed who held sway here. She only hoped the council would see that as well.

"Let her take on the Labyrinth that she has created by her actions. If you are going to put her to death anyway, why not as a result of the twisted Labyrinth that has been left to us since her run?"

Sarah winced inwardly as a hush fell over the room. Even the observers in the gallery stopped moving and whispering amongst themselves. The tension in the air at Jareth's suggestion felt as though a wet wool blanket was being held over her head.

"We will take that under consideration, King Jareth," replied the council-member with the lilting voice.

Sarah let out a breath that she had not realized she had been holding, her heart racing as she watched the figures on the dais.

Without further discussion, the robed council-members stood as one and left, leaving Sarah still chained in the middle of the throne room. Standing quietly, Sarah gasped as she felt something touch the back of her legs and noticed that a chair had appeared. Looking up, she saw Jareth nod imperceptibly toward the chair. Sarah followed his silent instruction and sat, hanging her head as she tried to conquer the fear that once again threatened to consume her at knowing that the council members were at this very moment outside deciding her fate. She concentrated upon her breathing, trying to still the frantic racing of her mind.

She lost track of time as she sat there alone. Jareth said nothing to her as he walked toward the back of the room and she was too afraid to look around for him, preferring to look at her lap and focus on keeping herself as calm as possible.

The observers in the gallery sat in their chairs talking amongst themselves. Sarah tried to ignore the fact that many of them kept looking at her as if she were part of a carnival freak show. Just when she thought she would scream if another snotty Fae looked at her like she had grown horns and a tail, the council members re-entered the throne room. Seeing them take their seats, it was all she could do to remember to breathe.

"We have made our decision," intoned the largest of the robed figures.

Sarah took a shaky breath as she stood, her back straight and her head held high while she looked at the council members. She heard Jareth's footfalls behind her as strode forward, pausing when he reached the foot of the dais.

In a loud voice the robed figure continued, "Sarah Williams of the Aboveground, we, the High Council of the Underground, seated at the pleasure of the High King Nuada, hereby sentence you to run the Labyrinth starting at sunrise tomorrow. You will have 3 days to reach the center of the Labyrinth. Should you fail, you will be removed to the dungeons of the High Court to await your execution. Should you succeed, your life will be spared, but you will remain a slave of the Goblin Court, at the whim of the Goblin King."

All of the white robed figures stood as one, intoning, "So say we!"

_Jareth sold me out_ , she thought as the realization hit her.  _He probably knew what they would be likely to do and manipulated things to ensure that is what happened!_

"You bastard," Sarah shrieked, her emerald eyes snapping venomously as she lunged toward Jareth, the chains pulling her up short. "You did this on purpose! Fucking fragile male ego couldn't stand being rejected," she snarled, her hands curled into tight fists as she struggled against the chains. "Give me no choice now, huh? Either die by Labyrinth or execution squad, or become your slave – just because you couldn't get me in your bed any other way!"

Two dwarven guards rushed toward her, stopping as Jareth raised a hand to wave them off. Sarah vaguely registered that the council members were still on the dais looking at her and the observers in the gallery had stopped their talking to stare. Scowling, she struggled against the chains, as Jareth stalked toward her, his boot heels sounding of hollow finality as he swooped down upon her. His hand flashed out quickly, connecting with her cheek and knocking her to the floor with a thud.

The sound of the slap rang out sharply in the throne room. Sarah gasped, her fingers lightly grazing the burning skin of her cheek as she looked at him, her green eyes wide. She was dimly aware of approving murmurs coming from the gallery of observers.

Jareth hauled her upward by her arm, his eyes darkening angrily as he shook her. He jerked her close to his chest, "I warned you to keep your temper in check, Precious. Above all, I must save face if I am to assist you in keeping your life. Don't give me reason to hurt you further. Know this, Precious – I will if you push me!" he hissed low in her ear, his fingers digging painfully into her arm.

Thrusting Sarah from him to land once more on the flagstones of the throne room, Jareth stormed from the room, the heavy wooden doors of the hall slamming shut with an ear-shattering boom as he passed them.

The goblin guards quickly moved toward her, tugging sharply on the chains as they moved to lead her from the room. Knowing this might be the last time she ever saw the council-members or the gallery of observers, Sarah straightened her posture and walked out of the room with her head held high, she wasn't about to meekly slink away – death sentence at the hands of a lethal Labyrinth or not

* * *

Sarah muttered angrily as she paced the small cell in the dungeon. She was furious, both at herself and Jareth, although if truth be told, she was mostly mad at him.  _I can't believe I actually bought his act about how he only wanted to help me_ , she thought as she paused to kick the leg of the bed.

"Insufferable, arrogant, back-stabbing bastard," Sarah snarled, as she delivered a fierce side-kick to the cell door, enjoying the satisfying clang that reverberated through the room.

"It is so nice to know that you have no problem expressing yourself despite the dire situation in which you have found yourself, Precious," drawled a cool voice from the hallway.

Looking up, she saw Jareth leaning against the door to the cell, the standing collar of his dark leather cloak framing his angular face, accented with wisps of white-blonde hair. Sarah growled, her fists clenching tightly, she barely registered the pain as her nails scored the palms of her hands with red crescents.

"And it is so nice to know that you are the coward I thought you to be, Goblin King," she snapped wickedly, spinning to pound the cell door with another side-kick. "What… it wasn't enough to have the Council hand down your revenge for you, now you've come to gloat but don't have the balls to poof your glittery ass into the cell?"

Jareth glared darkly at her, his usually pale eyes nearly black. He had expected that the council would make the recommendation it did and knew without a doubt that Sarah would be furious. Her reaction to the news was in no way a surprise, although the utter hatred and contempt with which she looked at him was more than he had expected. He had hoped that the feelings he knew she harbored for him would dull her initial feeling of betrayal, but apparently, they had not.

Jareth chuckled low from the other side of the door, "I hardly think you'll break the door with your kicks, Sarah – impressive though they may be."

"I'm not trying to break the door, I'm just warming up so I can kick your ass should you find the balls to come back into this cell," she growled at him.

His face changed, the angles becoming sharper and more distinct as he glowered darkly at her. He had indulged her outbursts before, but she was rapidly pushing him to anger. He could feel it bubbling beneath the surface as if looking for a way to vent.

"Believe me Sarah, I am not out here out of fear of you. While you will prove most formidable when you run the Labyrinth, I have nothing to fear from you," he replied, his voice laced with ice as he watched her pace the small cell. "I am outside the cell only because the Council has seen fit to seal it until an hour before sunrise tomorrow."

"Likely fucking story, Goblin King," Sarah muttered, her voice harsh and sharp as it echoed against the stonewalls. "Well then, if you only came down here to gloat, you can fuck off. I've got you figured out, Goblin King! You are a fucking coward. You don't have the balls to kill me yourself, but didn't want the Council to have all the fun. So you got them to agree to let your pet Labyrinth do it for you. I've a good mind to either off myself or just let my time run out and let the Council kill me, just to spite you, you spineless bastard!" she yelled, pounding the palms of her hands against the door.

Jareth didn't move. Out of her line of sight, he conjured a crystal and trained it on her, letting it fill with her emotions and what he saw worried him. The crystal showed him that she spoke the truth, she was considering merely giving up. He knew she would detest the idea of being a slave to his court, but he never thought she would rather die than accept that fate.

"Would remaining here in my kingdom be that terrible, Sarah?" he asked, his voice dropping low, an unreadable emotion flitting through his eyes.

Sarah paused her pacing and looked at him, her lips pursed in a scowl as she considered his question. Peering at him she frowned, he actually looked unsure of himself for just a fraction of a second. Did he really want her to stay that badly? No matter how much his touch thrilled her and the dreams she had of him for many years, he had betrayed her and put her in a no-win situation.

_But it was a no-win situation even before he interceded with the council. If he hadn't offered the penalty he did, you might be facing certain death, instead of possible death or life as a slave in the Goblin Court,_ suggested her voice of reason, who finally decided to join the fray.

"I….um…that isn't the fucking point, Jareth," she snarled, her irritation showing clearly in her eyes.

It was with some degree of pleasure that he noted her use of his name, while hating the fact that it was in this situation in which it was used.

Quietly but firmly, he pressed her, "It is indeed the point, Precious. Would you rather die than remain here? I offered you everything once before, but you refused the offer. Since they Council wants you punished they could not merely leave you here and even if they did, I would be forbidden from making you the offer a second time. While being a slave in my court may not be the life I offered you before, I ask again, would it really be worse than death?"

He watched as she looked at him. The thought that she would choose death rather than remaining in his kingdom threatened to lay his emotions bare, as he struggled to retain a cool expression. Watching her, he tried to read her emotions. Her face momentarily softened as she considered things. He knew she wanted him, her dreams made that patently clear. But he also knew that her dreams were now much darker than her teen dreams of him had been. While that was to be expected as she matured, her desires were considerably darker than he thought possible. She no longer dreamt of being the princess, but wanted to be stronger than that, yet still to be cared for and wanted – things he could offer her much easier as a slave than as a princess.

As he looked at her, her eyes shifted, the green deepening until it was nearly black with hatred.

"I managed to get through the Labyrinth the first time and didn't fall for any of your lies. Not the crystal ball room and not at the end. So I really can't believe I was stupid enough to believe your lies this time. A mistake I will certainly not repeat," she snapped viciously.

Growling low in his throat, Jareth longed to reach through the bars and shake her fiercely, "I have  _never_  lied to you, Sarah. Not then and certainly not now. There is too much at stake."

"I call bullshit on that, Goblin King," she retorted angrily, her hands on her hips as she glared through the bars. "I can't believe a word you say anymore. I've got to hand it to you, getting the Council to not only agree to your terms, but to give me to you as a slave if I manage to save my own neck….now that was a stroke of genius. I'd really like to know who you had to fuck or pay off to manage  _that_  little trick!"

Fighting to quell his burning anger, Jareth stepped back from the cell door. There was nothing he could do at the moment to show her that he was telling the truth and could be trusted. Despite his anger, the last thing he wanted was for her to lose. While he relished the idea of having her as a slave to his court - to him - first and foremost, he could not stomach the thought of her death. Not her. Not the Champion of his Labyrinth. Jareth knew that his chances of assisting her through the Labyrinth would be hampered not only by the Council, but the Labyrinth itself, yet assisting her was the only way he could see to prove himself to her.

"I suggest you eat when dinner is delivered and sleep, Sarah," he said, his voice detached and indifferent. "Sleeping in the Labyrinth is dangerous these days as it preys upon the dreams and nightmares of those who enter its walls," Jareth drawled, his lips turned in his characteristic sardonic sneer.

In the end, her anger would be far more helpful in getting her through the Labyrinth alive, than fear or even love.

As he moved away from the cells, Sarah thought she heard him whisper….

_Fear me….love me….do as I say..._

Gripping the bars of the door tightly, she pressed her face against them, roaring down the corridor at his retreating back.

"I'd rather rot in hell than be your slave, Goblin King!"

 


	5. Abandon Hope All Who Enter

_**Ch. 5: Abandon Hope All Who Enter Here** _

As much as Sarah hated the idea of doing anything that even remotely resembled obeying Jareth, when the guard delivered her dinner she devoured it telling herself that it wasn't because Jareth said to, but because she knew she'd need strength. That, and the fact that she didn't know whether the Council would even allow her basic provisions for her trip through the Labyrinth. Looking over the steaming bowl filled with a thick stew of meat and vegetables, she paused momentarily to wonder if it was safe to eat.

… _The bastard already has me in his clutches, what reason could he possibly have to drug me now…._  She thought ruefully, before digging into the bowl.

While goblin hospitality and attitude left much to be desired, the food itself was tasty, hearty and filling. Within minutes she had polished the bowl clean with the fresh bread and butter that came with it on the tray. The only remaining item was a single, perfectly ripe peach. Grasping it, Sarah wanted to squeeze it until the juice from the ruined flesh ran between her fingers to spill on the stone floor - then she thought better of it. As much as she might hate Jareth and his peach fetish, food was food and the more she had tucked away for her journey, the better off she would be. With a frustrated sigh, she laid the peach on the small table by the cot, next to the peach still left from breakfast.

Although she hadn't been tired when her dinner arrived, upon finishing it, Sarah felt a tidal wave of sleepiness wash over her. The feeling hit her so suddenly that she only had a moment to wonder if the food had actually been drugged, before she found herself curling up on the rickety cot and drifting into a deep sleep.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Opening her eyes, Sarah found herself standing by the small stone fountain outside the entrance to the Labyrinth. Seeing a familiar form standing on the edge of the little pond, she rushed forward, her heart leaping at the sight.

"Hoggle!" she shouted as she raced toward him, only to stop short. "Hoggle!" she called again, a tremor of fear shaking her to her very core, when Hoggle didn't move or answer her call. "Hoggle?"

Her heart clenching painfully in her chest as she moved around the corner of the pond to face him, Sarah feared what she would see. Tears formed in her eyes as what she was seeing fully registered.

Hoggle, had been turned to stone.

"Oh Hoggle," she moaned, a slender hand reaching up to trace the bulbous cheeks and roughened face of her friend. "What happened?"

Sarah slumped to the edge of the fountain, next to the silent stone feet of her friend. Burying her head in her hands, she wept. Sarah wept for her friend - once her only link to this magical world, a friend she had neglected horribly and left to fend for himself in this changed and dangerous world. And she wept for herself.

"It is my fault…all my fault. If I only hadn't neglected you and left you alone. Why did Jareth have to do this, just to punish me," she whispered, her tears falling against Hoggle's stone feet, splashing against the dusty brown stone.

"You think too much of yourself, Precious if you think I did this to punish you," came the clipped reply from behind her.

Leaping to her feet, Sarah turned to see the Goblin King standing on the other side of the fountain, the heated wind that battered against the stone walls of the Labyrinth, swirling effortlessly around him, making the heavy leather of his cloak flap and lick at his calves.

"You… You bastard…" snarled Sarah, glaring at the unwelcome sight before her.

"Save your vitriol, Sarah. I didn't do this to punish you. In fact, I didn't do this at all," replied Jareth as he moved toward the still form of Hoggle. Frowning, he shook his head before turning his attention back toward Sarah. "While Hogwart is not my most loyal subject thanks to you, he had his uses and was usually pretty good and fulfilling them. I had no reason to put him out of commission.  _This_ ," he said, gesturing at Hoggle's silent form, "…was solely the act of the Labyrinth."

"Stay away from him," yelled Sarah, angered by cavalier way Jareth seemed to regard the stone Hoggle. Rushing at Jareth, she began to beat at his chest, attempting to shove him away from her friend. "I know you had a hand in this. You stay away from him. You've done enough damage."

Gripping her wrists in his gloved hands, Jareth looked at the snapping and growling woman before him, his pale eyes grave and his voice surprisingly calm and quiet. "No, Sarah. I. Did. Not. Do. This," he said, biting off each word sharply to emphasize his point. "You must believe me Precious, no matter what you may think of me, I would not unduly harm my own subjects. Particularly one such as Hoggle, whose sole purpose is to protect my Labyrinth and those who enter her gates."

Angrily, Sarah jerked her hands free of Jareth's grip and collapsed on the stone-wall of the fountain once more, her hands running restlessly through her hair as she stared at Hoggle's still, stone feet. Cocking her head slightly, her hair sliding to partially cover her eyes, she glared balefully at Jareth before speaking.

"Why are you here, Jareth? Did you come to gloat some more?"

Regarding her coolly, Jareth leisurely adjusted his gloves as he answered, his tone crisp and detatched, the faint trace of concern he had shown earlier, no more, "It is your dream, Sarah. You pulled me into it. So why don't you tell me what you want from me."

Turning away from her, Jareth walked toward the entrance gates of the Labyrinth, gliding a gloved hand over the seam where the two gates met, a grim smile tugging at his lips as he surveyed the outermost part of his once magnificent Labyrinth.

With a huff of frustration and a small snarl of irritation, Sarah ran a hand through her hair, feeling sand grinding between her fingers and the heavy strands. "I didn't  _pull_  you into anything, Goblin King. After the crap you pulled in court today, you are the _last_  being on _any_  plane of existence that I want to see or hear from. You can go to hell or wherever your kind goes that is dark, dank and evil for all I care!"

Jareth laughed, the sound low and dark as he looked at her, "While you may believe that my dear, I would not be here if you did not want me here."

"So, you  _did_  drug my dinner," Sarah said, her words a statement of fact rather than a question.

"Drug? No. Nothing so barbaric, merely a simple enchantment to help you sleep," came the smooth reply.

With a snort Sarah shook her head, watching him as he walked along the gate.

"A matter of semantics – potato,  _pota_ to," grumbled Sarah, rubbing her hand over her face.

Glancing at her over his shoulder, Jareth paused his examination of the gates,"As I said before, Precious… the Labyrinth is a dangerous place to sleep these days. I wanted to ensure you managed to get some sleep while you are still safe. Believe me, Sarah, I want nothing more than for you to beat the Labyrinth and keep your life."

Watching Jareth run his hand over the entrance to the Labyrinth, Sarah felt a twinge inside herself. As mad as she was at him, he was the only person that even remotely qualified as a 'friendly face' in this changed environment and at the moment, Sarah was torn. She fervently hated him and felt he had betrayed her to the council, using them to have her made his slave. Yet, if she was honest with herself, she really didn't want to die – which meant she not only had to survive the Labyrinth, but make it to the Goblin Castle before her time ran out – and that would put her right back into Jareth's clutches. In the end, it always came back to that – she would belong to the Goblin King. Still, when she was being perfectly honest with herself, part of her (a very tiny part, but a part nonetheless) didn't mind the idea of being his. And it was that part that now fought free of the bonds that the rest of her psyche had thrust upon it, to speak from her heart for the first time since her latest journey with Jareth had begun.

"I wish I could believe you," she whispered so softly that she herself almost didn't hear the words falling from her lips, her eyes falling to her own hands, as they twisted in her lap.

In that instant Jareth was sitting beside her on the edge of the fountain, a gloved hand tenderly tipping her chin, bringing her face up to see him, "You can, Sarah. In fact, if you are to survive this, you must believe me. Any animosity I held toward your actions is long past. You won the challenge fairly, even by my standards. And while you carelessly tossed aside everything I offered you, and indeed Precious, I offered you everything you could dream of, and more, I hold you no ill will."

The wind around them picked up, buffeting them harshly with sand until it felt like they were being ground to dust. Sarah watched in horror as the sand pelted the stone Hoggle, who in mere minutes began to crumble.

"No!" she shrieked, throwing herself across the stone edge of the fountain, the stone remnants of Hoggle crumbling to powder in her fingers.

"Sarah," soothed Jareth, pulling her from the edge of the fountain and wrapping the sturdy leather of his cloak around them both, protecting them from the harsh wind and sand as it tore through the air. "This is but a dream, Sarah. You will encounter far more disturbing dreamscapes than this in your journey. Above all, you must remain aware that you are in a dream. You have to use that knowledge to help yourself where I can't. Remember that, Precious."

"A dream…."

"Yes, Sarah. Remember that and believe in me. Do those two things, and you will find what you need to get through the Labyrinth."

The wind picked up further, until Sarah found herself clinging to Jareth as the only solid thing that kept her from being blown away.

"Remember, Sarah…. "

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Clinging to the threadbare woolen blanket of the cot, Sarah groaned as she was shaken awake by a very cranky goblin guard.

"Oi…You! Wake up! You got no time fer sleepin. Council wants you ready in an hour to go to the gates. Majesty says you're to wake up and I'm ta make sure ya eat. So eat!" he grumbled, thrusting a tray of food onto the foot of the bed, before stalking from the cell and slamming the door behind him.

Stretching, Sarah watched him leave. "And a good morning to you too," she shouted with false cheerfulness at his retreating back, before muttering under her breath, "Asshat."

With a last stretch, she pulled herself upright, tucking her feet under the skirts of her dress with a frown as she looked at the wrinkles that creased the fabric.

"Hmm…I doubt I'll be given the option of a wardrobe change before they lead me to my doom," she grumbled, plucking the lid from her breakfast tray.

What she found on the tray surprised and dismayed her. A full breakfast filled the tray. On a plate was a large slice of ham that was more like a slab, as it hung over three sides of the plate. Laying on top of the slice of ham were three fried eggs. In another dish was a heaping serving of fried potatoes and onions. Next to that was a stack of three buckwheat pancakes filled with berries and smothered in syrup. Topping off the breakfast platter was a large bowl of fresh fruit. While the breakfast she was served was complete and as nice as she might find in any five-star hotel, Sarah immediately saw it for what it was meant to be – the last meal of the condemned woman.

"Fucking brilliant. Even the cooks think I'm doomed," she sighed, picking up a fork and plunging it into the bowl of fruit. As she brought a bite of pineapple and melon to her mouth, a crisply accented voice cut into her reverie.

"Actually, Precious… if the cooks had their way you'd be eating the same pottage made of beans and leftovers that the lowest ranking goblins in the castle eat. I informed them that you were to have the same breakfast I had. I'd feel better knowing you are facing the Labyrinth with a proper meal inside you."

Looking up, Sarah saw Jareth once more standing outside the cell door. His presence made her pause, the fork of fruit halfway to her mouth. Unlike the night before, she didn't feel the urge to scream at him, which vaguely puzzled her. Raising an eyebrow, she surveyed him, before gesturing with her fork, the fruit dripping juice upon the floor as she spoke, "And is this meal drugged like dinner was last night?"

Jareth merely chuckled and shook his head, an amused smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, "Now Sarah, I thought I addressed that last night. It wasn't drugged, simply enchanted to ensure you got a good sleep."

Nibbling her lip, Sarah looked at him, her distrust plainly written upon her face. Yet, in the end, hunger and practicality won out as she finally slipped the bite of fruit into her mouth, silencing the mournful rumble of hunger her stomach had been in the process of giving.

"Besides," Jareth said with a wink, making Sarah stop in mid-chew, "giving you a sleep enchantment now would cause no end of problems, not the least of which would be the fact that it would be quite difficult for your to meet your deadline if you were sleeping. I'll save that for when you get to the castle, as I am sure you'll be in need of rest and relaxation."

With a sharp, barking laugh, Sarah viciously speared a bite of the soft and fluffy pancakes, "Don't do me any favors, Jareth."

Jareth smiled inwardly at Sarah's use of his name, as she thrust another bite of pancakes into her mouth. He was not sure how she would react to his presence this morning after the way she had screamed at him the night before, and he was somewhat surprised that she had not yelled at him, and was even addressing him by name – something he was not sure she had even realized that she had done.

Talking around the bite of pancake, Sarah continued, "When I get to the castle, I don't want anymore drugged or enchanted food – ever."

Raising an eyebrow, Jareth looked at the girl who had the audacity to address him in such a way, making such demands. As much as he was pleased that she wasn't cursing his very name at the moment, he couldn't let the comment pass.

"Let me remind you, Precious," he drawled, moving nearer to the bars set in the cell door as he watched her carefully, " _when_  you reach the castle,  _my_ castle, you will fall under my control and should I wish you to eat enchanted food at every single meal, you _will_  do so."

Sarah glared at Jareth as he stood by the door, angry at herself for having forgotten that simple, but oh-so-important part of the whole ordeal – if she survived the Labyrinth and won her life, she lost her freedom, a thought that alternately intrigued her and terrified her.

Jareth watched as Sarah dropped her fork on the plate with a jarring clatter. Slowly she untucked her legs and stalked across the cell until she was standing at the door. With only several inches of wood and iron between them, Jareth bit back a smile as an involuntary shiver shook her body. Gripping the bars of the door in her hands, she gazed at him, her green eyes seeming to search his face as if looking for an answer to a question not yet asked.

"You know I will not be an easy woman to keep, Jareth," she murmured quietly as she glared at him.

"I am quite well aware of that, and wouldn't expect anything else," he replied, unable to keep the amusement from his voice, until the deadly serious look in her eyes made his blood chill in his veins.

"I have come to terms with the fact that if I win my life, I lose my freedom. I get that. It isn't fair, but what is said, is said. But know this, Goblin King," she continued, her voice steely in the silent hall of the dungeon, "if you think I'm going to roll over and let you hurt me or mistreat me, then you'd best let your Labyrinth kill me before I get to the castle – because I will make your life a living hell if you even  _think_  about abusing me."

A smirk tugged at his lips as he watched her face, admiring the way her finely edged teeth seemed to both caress each word, and sharply bite them off. She was truly a beauty, and worthy of any crown he could bestow upon her. Yet, in his mind's eye he suspected that she would be even more beautiful in finely wrought, fairy chains – and by rights, should she win her life, those chains would be a reality.

"My dear Sarah, while having you at my beck and call as a slave is in some ways, a dream come true," he chuckled, the sound a dark rumble that echoed in the dungeon hall, "mistreating you in anyway is the furthest thing from my mind."

"Then why would you agree to take me as a slave if I win?" she asked, her voice dropping further as she studied his face.

The Goblin King leaned in closer to the bars of the door, a gloved finger lightly caressing her fingers as they gripped the steel rods.

"Think it over, Precious," he replied silkily, a sly smile shining in his mismatched eyes as the light of understanding dawned for her.

Cocking her head slightly, Sarah studied him, her green eyes narrowing sharply as her mind worked over what he had said. Clearly, he had some reason for what he was doing and why, the question was – what. Seeing his supercilious smirk, Sarah felt herself torn between wanting to slap him and wipe the smirk from his face, and crush her lips to his.

…  _This was easier when I wanted to curse his name to the ends of the earth and back again…._  She groaned inwardly. Then the answer hit her – not even an answer really, but her own words. Her own theory that she had dreamt up one night in her first year of graduate school, as she lounged in her studio apartment, drinking her way through several bottles of wine while mulling over the sensual darkness that was the Goblin King.

"There is a fine line between loathing, lust and love," Sarah whispered, before she was cut off by his clipped baritone.

"Precisely, Pet. And I intend to see just how blurred that line can become," Jareth replied, before stepping away from the cell door and vanishing in a swirl of silvery glitter

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

True to the decree of the Council, Sarah had been taken from her cell well before sunrise, a cadre of guards unceremoniously chaining her hands once more as she was led out of the dungeon cell. She had finished the last bites of her breakfast only minutes before the band of goblins had descended upon the cell – apparently she was a 'dangerous' prisoner that required a small army to move from one place to another. As she was pulled into the hallway, Sarah was momentarily concerned by the notable absence of the Goblin King, but wasn't given time to dwell on it. Once outside the cell, she felt that odd pulling sensation in her stomach, as if she had dropped from a great height, and the world around them spun away into a vibrant purple mist. Just as quickly as the dungeon hallway disappeared, Sarah and the Council members were standing outside in the grey-blue light of the pre-dawn period.

A cool breeze galloped up the sandy slope upon which Sarah now found herself, once more overlooking the Labyrinth – that is, what remained of the Labyrinth. Looking at the outer walls, she felt a tendril of icy fear run down her spine. Where before the walls were sturdy, brown sandstone, now they shimmered darkly, under a coating of obsidian dust. That alone was not the most disturbing part. On her first visit, Sarah remembered being able to see the castle far off in the distance at the middle of the Labyrinth, this time there was nothing in the distance except low-hanging dark clouds that rumbled ominously, as occasional flashes of violet and silver lightening streaked across the sky.

This was a thing of nightmares.

"Sarah Williams of the Aboveground, as ordered, you have three days to arrive safely at the Castle beyond the Goblin City," intoned the Council members as one voice. "If you arrive within the allotted time you shall be decreed property of the Goblin King and shall live or die at his whim. Should you fail to reach the castle, your life is forfeit and you will be transported to the High Court to await execution. Have you anything to say before the sentence is carried out?"

Frowning, Sarah considered her dress, shoes and the fact that she didn't have any provisions, except the peaches tucked into the pouch on her hip. Raising her head, she stared them in the eye as she opened her mouth to request some food at the very least, only to be cut off by an aggravated snort from behind her.

"I might have known you would attempt to change the start time," snarled Jareth, his voice cold as he addressed the Council members. "Did you honestly think you would be able to sneak her out of my own dungeon, let alone cheat by changing the time? While the Labyrinth may be deadly, rules are still rules. Three days from sun-up until sun-up. That was the decree."

Although they were still hooded in white, Sarah could feel the Council representatives glaring at Jareth. She wasn't sure how much Jareth was helping her case with his anger and the way he was speaking to the Council members.

"You dare accuse us of cheating, Goblin King?" asked the Council head, with an icy rasp.

Sarah watched as Jareth stepped around her, surprised by the momentary scent of cinnamon and something darker, more exotic, that wafted around her as he stalked past to stand before the Council head.

"Yes. I do accuse you. Not only that, but you are being entirely cruel in sending her in unprepared. I must protest again. She did nothing worth punishing her for, at least grant her proper clothing and some food," Jareth demanded, his usually pale eyes darkened with anger as he stared down the Council members, the leather of his cloak creaking in the breeze that swirled around them.

To her great surprise, Sarah saw the head of the Council incline their head slightly and gesture in her direction.

"As you wish, Goblin King. You may dress her in as befitting a woman of her status in this kingdom and provide modest provisions for her sustenance," declared the head of the Council.

Bowing slightly to the Council, Jareth wasted no time in turning toward Sarah. With a wave of his hand the chains that bound her hands dissolved, Sarah rubbing her wrists where the heavy chains had chaifed her skin. She felt her skin tingle as if electrified as he stalked around her, before coming to stop in front of her once more. Deftly twisting his hand, a shimmering orb appeared in it and with a sly smirk, he dropped the crystal at her feet. Before she could blink, Sarah found herself clothed in a much more appropriate manner. Her feet were covered in sturdy leather boots, that were soft, yet strong. On her legs she found a pair of black leggings made of a thick, warm wool that skimmed her body closely enough that she would have no problem moving quickly if she needed to. Her torso was now covered in a long-sleeve, knee-length linen shift of silver, over which was a heavier weight, coarse linen tunic of dove grey. Shifting her posture, Sarah surveyed the fitted black leather jacket that topped off her traveling garb. Considering her outfit, she couldn't help but smile, fixing the Goblin King with a slight grin, he had dressed her to compliment what he was now wearing, the same outfit he had worn when he had come to taunt her in the tunnels on her first journey through the Labyrinth –her jacket even had the same asymmetrical cut and hardened shoulder spaulders that his did.

Looking at the ground once more, Sarah noticed that her leather satchel was sitting by Jareth's feet. Swiftly he bent, picking up the bag and holding it out to her, "I trust you will find adequate food in this bag. The water bottle inside has been enchanted so that it will refill as often as you need."

"Thank you," Sarah managed to mutter, taking the straps of the bag and slinging them over her shoulder, relishing the reassuring weight of the bag against her back.

As they stood on the hillside, the first rays of the sun rose behind them, however instead of the rosy warmth Sarah was used to seeing with the sunrise, the sun that rose over the Labyrinth cast an eerie blue-grey glow over the landscape, making the shadows dance as they lengthened, seeming to climb the walls of the Labyrinth as if they were alive.

"Come, Sarah," Jareth said, his voice quiet yet firm in the early morning silence. "It is time."

Sarah followed Jareth down the small hillside, their feet making faint crunching sounds in the dry, cracked soil. She was oddly relieved that the group of goblins and Council members stayed at the top of the slope. When they reached the gates, Jareth paused, turning to look at her. Unable to bear it if he were to look on her with pity or even with that smug smirk of his, Sarah stared resolutely at the great gate. As if reading her mind, Jareth lightly caressed her chin, tilting her head up until her eyes met his, surprising her with the concern that flashed in them, before they masked once more.

"Remember everything I have told you. The Labyrinth will use your fears and insecurities against you. You must believe in yourself and you must believe in me. Trust that you will find what you need. And above all, remember the story – every word of it."

With his final words to her still hanging in the air, the Goblin King ran his hand over the emblem that marked the door and stood back, as the great stone doors swung open. Peering into the darkened entry of the Labyrinth, Sarah felt her heart begin to thud wildly in her chest. Shaking her head, she stood up straight, her shoulders back and her head held high. She was the Champion of the Labyrinth. The  _only_  Champion of the Labyrinth, and the Labyrinth, even this twisted, macabre nightmare it had become, was hers by conquest – she just had to remind it of that fact.

"See you at the castle, Goblin King," she muttered, casting a quick look in Jareth's direction.

"I'll hold you to that, Precious."

Glancing down, Sarah gripped her satchel more firmly as she took her first step through the great gates, "Come on feet. Let's do this."

As Sarah stepped fully through the gates, they closed with a firm thud behind her, sealing her inside the dark and foreboding walls of the Labyrinth. Moving close to the wall, Jareth ran his fingers once more over the emblem of the kingdom that emblazoned the doors.

"Gods be with you, Precious."

And Jareth, the Goblin King and Lord of the Labyrinth, disappeared in a haze of golden glitter.

 


End file.
